I Was Glad
by palaces.out.of.paragraphs
Summary: Sequel to 'Addiction'. Mary Crawley is about to make a life changing decision. She has two very different paths to go down. Mary has to decide if she is willing to give up Downton. If she is, the only question that remains: can she handle possibly being an outcast by society?
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing Downton Abbey related. It's a disappointment, really.**_

Mary knew that her family was talking about her downstairs. She knew they were talking about Matthew's proposal. They were probably also wondering why she had not answered the poor man.

"May I give my reply in a few days?" she had asked. His bewildered look haunted her memory. He had hesitantly nodded and smiled like the gentleman he truly was. She was flattered, really she was. Mary was happy that a man of such a pure heart found her worthy of being a wife.

There was a problem though. There was always a problem and this time it was all because of Mary's heart. She thought of the Irishman who had talked to her, who had been intimate with her. He had confessed his feelings – at least the beginning of them – and she had disappeared. She had left him. She hadn't dared to go near the garage since the proposal. Mary knew he must have heard. Probably from Barrow, the gossiper. She wondered what he thought of her. Did he think less of her? Did he wonder what she would tell Matthew?

Mary found herself slinking down the stairs, willing her family's chatter to go on so that she could escape out the door. Indeed, their chatter continued. Mary quickly stepped outside and inhaled the fresh air. She had felt as though she was suffocating inside. She felt as if she was suffocating outside, but it was more bearable. She stood near the front of the house. She wasn't worried that Matthew would come. He wouldn't. He was giving her space to mull over his proposal and then answer.

Really, what was there to consider? His proposal was clear. He wanted to marry her and love her. She would be a solicitor's wife. Not forever, Mary reminded herself. She would, if she married him, become Countess of Grantham one day. That was an exciting thought. Downton meant so much to her. It was where she was held as a baby, where she took her first steps, where she proudly grew up. There was no question in her mind that she could run Downton. Her fear was that someone _else_ couldn't run Downton. Matthew seemed capable enough, but would his wife be capable of running the estate? His wife would not be just a figure in society, she would have responsibilities. Mary could handle responsibility. She could handle it better than her sisters. She knew Downton. That was more than some pretty stranger could say.

Her legs kept her moving and she realized she ended up closer to the garage than she would have liked. A jolt went through her body and she anxiously backed away. What if he saw her? She missed talking to him. She missed the conversation more than the other aspects. At least she was still somewhat a lady. She felt her breathing increase as she saw movement in the garage. All of a sudden the door swung open and Sybil stepped out. Sybil was laughing, her hand on her stomach and her head titled back. Tom was right behind her, a large smile on his face.

"Mary, dear!" Sybil cooed as she saw her older sister. She walked to her and smiled.

Mary knew how to perfect a fake smile – and she did this now. "Sybil, whatever are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing at all. Is Papa or Mama calling for me?"

"No. I, well I was just walking."

"Oh yes. Deep thoughts," said Sybil with a smile. She patted Mary's shoulder and walked ahead.

The smile fell from Mary's face once Sybil was out of their presence. Her gaze landed on Tom and she felt her breathing become ragged. They stared at each other for a moment, she allowed her eyes to look up and down him. Her lips parted. She _missed_ him.

Mary felt as if something was stuck in her throat and was preventing her from speaking. Her red lips pressed together and she quickly fled back to the house.

/

Mary Crawley had never been an explorer. Her sisters were seen as adventurous, Sybil at least loved exploring uncharted waters. Mary, however, had been told where her place was. For that reason, she had no reason to explore. Mary had her life planned out for her and there had been no reason to do anything daring. Patrick was never the bold type and because of that Mary wasn't either.

She felt silly, walking further through the grounds of Downton than she had ever dared to go. She supposed she had been to the edges on her horse, but never in her shoes and nice dress that was meant for tea at a Lord and Lady's home. Mary laughed, a feeling of insanity creeping through her. She had to be insane. She had to.

Mary was walking slowly because she had at least remembered that a lady never ran. She was contemplating how un-lady like she had become when the rain started to fall. It started slowly and then sped up. Large droplets were falling on her bare arms and on her face. The rain came down faster and Mary felt as if she was drowning. _She was drowning_.

Her hair felt heavier as it started to sag. Strands started to stick to her pale cheeks and she blinked furiously. The sky had grown dark and the raindrops were irritating her eyes. Damn, she thought. Goddamn.

She shivered as she decided that it was a good time to walk back. How late was it exactly? How much time did she have to change for dinner? And why was it so cold suddenly?

Her dress felt heavier than anything she had ever worn as it clung to her curves. Her shoes were ruined as dirt turned to mud and sloshed around her. Her small heels sunk into the mud and Mary let out a yelp as she struggled to free her left foot from the muddy hole. Was anyone looking for her? _She was drowning._

Mary freed her foot and continued down the path she had come from. The path, now though, was hard to see. The raindrops continued to irritate her eyes and she furiously brushed them away. It was no use, her hands were wet and only made her eyes hurt more. She whimpered. "It's no use."

Was anyone looking for her? Did they even realize she was not in her bedroom? Mary continued forward in what she hoped was the correct direction. Her hair slowly fell out of its twist and clung to her neck and cheeks. Her teeth were chattering.

This, she thought, is why I don't go exploring the unknown. The phrase ran through her mind and Mary abruptly stopped. She had been enjoying herself until the rain. The unknown had been beautiful. It was enchanting and she wouldn't have known that unless she adventured further than she ever had. The unknown was excitingly beautiful. Yes, the rain was irritating and she didn't enjoy that one bit. The rain was disastrous for her, but it would go back to normal. The rain would clear and the area would become breathtaking once more. Mary was sure of this. _She wasn't drowning._

Mary continued her walk back with a new determination. Her family didn't think she could do it. They would never assume she could be adventurous. That assumption was because they had built her role. They had made her role and made sure she fit it. But Patrick was dead. It was tragic, yes, but it gave Mary a second chance. She wouldn't be throwing it away with Matthew because Matthew was a wonderful man. He was good. But so was another man she knew. A man she would not have dared to be seen with at first. "He hates you now though," Mary whispered.

She continued walking with determination. She freed her foot whenever it got stuck in mud and held her dress up to prevent anymore mud clinging to it. Her teeth chattered and she could see the goosebumps along her arms. She was cold. Goddamn, she thought. Her pace started to slow and she cried out in frustration. Mary Crawley was no quitter.

"Mary!"

She laughed. She was hearing voices. Life was cruel. She often reminded herself of that.

" _Mary!"_

He was in front of her then. His face held worry and his arms grabbed her. She blinked several times, an attempt to stop the raindrops. They were irritating her eyes, those damn raindrops.

"Tom? Whatever are you doing?"

"What are you doing? People are looking for you. Me, Barrow, Mosely, Lord Grantham. You were supposed to be at dinner ages ago. Do you not realize how _fuckin'_ scared we were?"

And she did realize. She did. Her hands reached up and she hugged him tight. "Just hold me."

They stood there in the pouring rain, Mary's head buried in his chest and his arms around her waist. _She wasn't drowning._

"I've got to take you back," he whispered.

She nodded in response and gave a yelp of surprise as he scooped her into his arms. Her hair was sticking to her cheeks as well as his as he led the way back to the search party. Her eyes had been squeezed shut. She hated the raindrops. Mary opened them and was met with her father's look of relief.

"Mary, thank the Lord." Her father was reaching out and he scooped her into his own arms. He held her and she hugged him back.

"I walked a little farther than intended," she managed to say.

"I should say so," said Lord Grantham. He turned to Tom and nodded. "Thank you Branson. Thank you for finding my daughter."

Mary kept her arms around her father as he brought her inside Downton. She was greeted by her crying mother and worried sisters.

"I'm fine, really."

Cora embraced her daughter and patted Mary's soaked head.

"Where were you?" asked Sybil.

"I went for a walk," replied Mary with a shrug.

"I hope you enjoyed it at least."

"It was rather pleasant."

"Next time, tell someone you are going for a walk. We had all thought you were in your bedroom and when Anna told us you were not… just never worry me," demanded Cora.

"Of course, Mama. I never meant to be gone long."

"You're lucky we don't have company," said Edith. Mary frowned but watched as her younger sister offered Mary a genuine smile.

"If you don't mind, I should like to go up."

"I'm going to call Clarkson," said Robert.

"Why?"

"I'm not sick, Papa,"

"We must be positive."

Mary was in no mood to argue with her father, so she headed up the stairs. She wasn't sick. _She had not drowned._

/

Mary sat up in bed with a boring book that Edith had selected for her. It was horrible and Mary couldn't deny it as she tossed the book aside. Clarkson had come and said she had a fever. It would be best if she spent one day in bed before resuming life as usual.

"May I come in?"

"Of course," Mary replied.

She was greeted with her youngest sister. Sybil smiled as she sat at the edge of Mary's bed. Sybil patted Mary's leg. She knew how restless Mary could become and it was obvious now.

"How is the book Edith gave you?"

"A bore."

"Do try and read it. She was genuine when selecting it."

Mary sighed. "Has anything interesting happened?"

"Well, Matthew was told what happened. Isobel wanted to know everything about your condition and insisted Matthew not see you if you were contagious. I told her I have been up here with you and feel quite fine, but she wouldn't listen. Oh yes, and Tom Branson asked how you were feeling. I told him you were quid adamant on leaving your bed."

Mary's cheeks burned. "I hope you told them both it was nothing serious."

"I did, but well, they haven't seen you for themselves so I'm not sure if they believed me whole heartedly," Sybil said.

Mary tried not to picture men in her bedroom. She tried to shift her focus. "Has someone told Granny?"

"No, she would only be horrified at the impropriety of it all."

"Yes. It really did start out as a small walk though."

"Did you enjoy it? I remember when we were little and I was always begging to explore the ground but you said no. Once time even Edith wanted to explore, but you still said no."

"The walk was wonderful. I know I did not like doing that when we were younger but perhaps I've changed. It helped clear my head."

"Was something on your mind?"

"Are you asking indirectly about Matthew's proposal?"

"You suggested that, not I," said Sybil with a smirk.

"I was thinking about a million things, but I'm better now." Mary smiled. She had a lot to deal with and she was almost certain of the decision she was going to make. Almost.

 _She had not drowned. Yet._

 _ **So this is chapter one of the sequel. I'm really proud of this chapter and I hope you guys like it. This updating is going to be at a much slower pace so please don't get your hopes up for weekly updates (but I'll try my best)! I wasn't planning on uploading it this soon, but I couldn't leave you guys completely hanging. I really hope you liked. Please review, it means so much when you do.**_

 _ **I know some of you were disappointed with how Mary acted at the end of Addiction, but Mary acts irrationally and even cruelly when she gets scared. Things were never going to be perfect and Mary wasn't willing to immediately give up Downton when Tom told her how he felt. Downton is a huge part of Mary and that's why she is still considering Matthew's proposal. Also, Matthew isn't a bad guy and she's come to that realization which makes things ten times harder.**_

 _ **I'm on tumblr. Also, as a thank you for following me on there, I've uploaded a one-shot that will not be uploaded on here. I'm also very proud of that one shot which I wrote in less than an hour. Check my blog out: mrsmarybranson**_

 _ **Also, title of this might change!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**First off, this is the sequel to 'Addiction'. I previously was calling this story 'Cured' but I've decided to change the title for reasons that will be revealed later.**_

 _ **I've gone and left you waiting for chapter two. Sorry, I was in DC and there was no opportunity to write (and I don't like to update while I'm on vacation. Sorry again). I'm thrilled with the comments so far and I hope you continue to tell me what you liked and your guesses of what will happen next.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: Nothing Downton Abbey related is mine. I own nothing.**_

 _/_

 _I'll think of it tomorrow, at Tara. I can stand it then. Tomorrow, I'll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day._

 _\- Gone With the Wind_

 _/_

She watched his eyes nervously glance around the room. He was clearing trying to form some sort of decent response, but he sat there with his lips clamped shut.

"Please say something," she begged. Mary hardly begged.

"I'm sorry, it's just you have rather surprised me."

"I could not keep this large secret from you. I wanted to be the one to tell you, despite what you might say. I'm so sorry, Matthew."

Mary had informed Matthew of what happened with Pamuk and Tom. Her mother had told her to never speak of Pamuk, it was a secret to be kept till death. However, Mary had to tell Matthew because he deserved the truth. He didn't deserve to be strung along by a woman he thought was perfect.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. That is, you never directly lied to me or anything of the sort," he replied. Mary shrugged. She did not have to lie because it was expected that a bride, no matter her class, was a virgin. Matthew sighed and began to pace. "I can hardly fault you for being human."

"I acted improperly. I-I've become _garbage_."

"I don't believe that, Mary. The entire Pamuk situation seems to be because of him. He forced himself into your bedroom and that is something a gentleman would never do. As for Tom Branson, well can I detest you for loving him?"

Tears were starting to form and Mary hastily blinked them away. She shook her head and laughed at Matthew's words. "I did not, nor do I now love Tom Branson. I don't feel anything towards him actually."

"It's not a disgraceful act to be in love."

"But Matthew, it _is_." Mary felt her resolve crumble as a few tears slid down her cheeks. Matthew quickly offered her his handkerchief and sat down beside her.

"I don't agree. Perhaps that is another middleclass idea of mine, but being in love should be celebrated."

"Being in love should only be celebrated if you are in love with the right type of person. Someone with the aristocracy. A man who has a title or is in line to get one."

"Someone like me," murmured Matthew. Mary nodded at his statement. She could not lie. She watched him as he became enthralled with his shoes. "I will be breaking off the engagement."

"I'm not surprised. No man wants to marry a tart."

"Dammit, Mary you are nothing of the sort!" he snapped. Mary jumped at his tone and her mouth opened but no words could be uttered. "That is not the reason I am withdrawing my proposal. I want you to have a chance at love, Mary and that is not with me."

"Matthew I do love you."

"I know," he whispered. "Mary you love me the way you would love a brother. That is enough for me. You love me far more than I imagined when I first met you. I'm truly grateful for that."

Mary started crying again and clutched his handkerchief close. Matthew Crawley was always a gentleman. She stood up and faced him nervously. "I wanted to love you in that way, truly I did. You are a wonderful man, Matthew. In the beginning your lure was because of Downton, but then I realized how much of a genuine person you are. It shall be world shattering – to give up Downton. However, it is not as painful knowing that you and Papa will be the men in charge. I do love you, Matthew, ever so much."

"I hope you know I think the highest of you."

Mary's eyebrows raised in surprise. She had not forgotten the time he uttered those words. She gave him half a smile and a teasing tone as she replied, "It is unwise to make assumptions, Matthew."

His face displayed a wide grin as he hesitantly then decisively pulled her into a hug. Mary felt his arms wrap around her and she felt a sense of security. Matthew was family. He was her family. The notion that another woman would run Downton still unnerved her, but she knew that Matthew would pick the right woman. Matthew was an honorable man.

"I shall involve you in Downton's plans and future. It is still your home. It was your home growing up and shall continue to be under Cousin Robert. You will always be a part of Downton. I won't ever try to exclude you from this glorious place."

Mary smiled in response. She knew now that Matthew cared about Downton.

/

No one knew quite why the engagement ended. Mary offered them no answers. The assumption was that there was a falling out despite the fondness still displayed between them. Perhaps Mary Crawley was actually insane.

She had confided in Anna the true reason she could not accept Matthew's proposal. Anna had proved a trustworthy maid. A trustworthy friend. Anna had said that there was much gossip downstairs. Everyone was talking about the wedding that wasn't going to happen. The staff wondered if Matthew would possibly propose to Lady Edith or Lady Sybil. Mary laughed at the notion. Matthew still disliked Edith's taste and she wasn't quite sure on his opinion on Sybil, but she knew her sister saw him as a friend only.

Amidst the gossip she knew was going on downstairs, Mary wondered what Tom thought. It would be impossible for him not to hear what was going on with the Crawleys. She wondered if he cared why she was not going to be Mrs. Matthew Crawley. They had not spoken since he saved her that night in the rain. Sybil said he asked about her, but it sounded as if he was just being polite.

Mary would sit outside and glance at the garage every so often, but she would not see him. There were occasions where she _knew_ he was in the damn garage. She did not break though. Mary Crawley was made of stone, or ice as many said. She continued to sit outside and once she caught him talking to another member of the staff. His back was too her and she longed to see his eyes. She may not have been engaged, but there were still expectations of her. Mary hurriedly turned away.

/

"How is everyone downstairs, Anna?" asked Mary. She had retired for the evening after a lecturing from Granny.

"Everyone is fine health wise, my lady. Mr. Carson is trying to quiet down all the talk about you and Mr. Crawley."

"I see. Carson, my savior in livery." Mary paused and casually glanced at Anna in the mirror. "And how is Branson?"

"He is well, Lady Mary."

"Good."

"He asks me about you sometimes, my lady."

"What does he ask, Anna?"

"Oh just how you are."

Mary nodded. Just how she was. Branson had chosen to become quite the proper man. She wondered if he still had the fiery look in his eye and if he still talked about politics. She wondered what he would do if she told him how she felt about him. She had to try. Mary Crawley never gave up.

/

It was a cloudless day as Mary marched to the garage. She had had enough of avoiding Branson. She knocked on the garage door and folded her arms to wait.

A moment later he opened the door and shock appeared on his face. "Lady Mary."

"May I speak to you for a moment?"

His eyes narrowed but he nodded all the same. "Of course."

"I wanted to thank you again for searching and finding me in the rain."

"I was just doing what I was asked, Lady Mary."

"Never the less, I appreciate it. I've wanted a proper moment to thank you but it seems as if you are never around."

"I assure you I am, my lady."

"Really? It seems as though you have been avoiding me."

"I don't know why you would suggest that, Lady Mary."

"Stop. _Stop_ it. I'm sick of you acting this way. You don't have to keep addressing me like that. You do not have to act as though we are almost complete strangers. You are treating me just like the rest of them. You are polite and sweet, but you talk about what a _bastard_ I am. If I were not socially higher than you and a woman I'm sure you would tell me that. I know that they think of me. Now I know you feel that way also."

"How dare you," he hissed. "You think you know everything about people, but you don't. You decide your opinion of a person before they even have a chance to tell you their story. You are not God. You do not have all the answers. And my opinion of you has never been fowl. I may say things, but only because you infuriate me. I have never loved a person so much as the way I love you. And _now_ you know how I feel."

Mary reached her hand out, but then stopped and let it fall to her side. She bit her lip as she stared at him. She had felt confused and angry and perhaps she still was. She also felt a thrill go through her, her legs felt weak and she felt tears start to brim. She had been crying too much lately.

"You love me?" she asked.

"Yes. I have for a while now."

"I told Matthew I could not marry him."

"I heard."

"I told him everything," she said. She heard his sharp intake of breath. His eyes stayed focused on her. "I told him and he told me something that I had been trying to deny. He told me I loved you. I suppose—I know I love you."

"You love me."

"So much it scares me," she whispered.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked. Mary nodded and Tom pulled her into the familiarity of his arms. She gripped his shoulders as he kissed her harder than he ever had before. "I don't want to let you go."

"I am sorry about all the hurt I've caused you."

"Love isn't easy and people hurt each other. What are we going to do now though?"

Mary didn't want to think about the future. The future meant facing her family, her father. She was certain that if she pulled away from Tom again, he might not take her back. She had pulled and prodded him far too much already. Mary wondered if she was truly brave enough to face the aristocratic world.

At the moment she was still the respectable Lady Mary Crawley. True, she was not engaged to the heir of Downton Abbey. That did not mean there were no prospects. There were eligible future lords, knighted men, and other high figures in society. To them she was still available and a respectable option for a wife. She wondered if any one of those people would look her way again, should she become publically involved with Tom Branson. She did not want to wonder.

"Could you just hold me for a bit? Please just hold me for a bit longer."

 _ **There you have it. I hope you enjoyed, I know this chapter was a little shorter than the last. Again, I'm sorry it took me forever to update. I was busy and then I had to force myself to choose which direction I was taking this chapter. There were several drafts before this! Thank you all for your patience.**_

 _ **If you do not remember when Matthew told Mary he thought highly of her, it was chapter five of 'Addiction'.**_

 _ **Also I felt the quote for this chapter was quite fitting and is from one of my favorite books/movies.**_

 _ **I will try and update chapter three next week. Please review.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you for your reviews of last chapter. I'm glad to see that what happened was unexpected for some of you. Thanks for your continuous support and eagerness to see how this story unfolds.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: Nothing Downton Abbey related is mine.**_

 _Doubt thou the stars are fire_

 _Doubt that the sun doth move;_

 _Doubt truth to be a liar;_

 _But never doubt I love_

 _Act II, scene II, Hamlet_

Mary needed to confide in someone about her situation with Tom. Two people came to mind. Mary knew she could trust Anna because the girl had yet to tell anyone about what she once saw Mary and Tom doing. The other person Mary wanted to confide in was Sybil. If there was anyone from the aristocratic level who would sympathize willingly with Mary, it was Sybil. Her youngest sister was not afraid to step out of the confines of aristocratic norms. Sybil, simply, was not afraid.

Mary was quite different though. She prided herself in her stance in the social world. She prided herself in not being easily read and having men suffer trying to decipher who she was. Mary had had no sympathy for people, men or women, who married people that they knew they should not have. Older women marrying young men, people marrying foreigners from countries that were _not_ respectable – Mary was unsympathetic towards them all. Now, she called on them—and everyone else—to be sympathetic towards her. She had not yet dared to imagine the first time she would bring Tom into the social scene of the aristocracy. She feared of his reaction to so many people acting how she used to act, how she sometimes still acted. Mary knew not everyone would have Sybil's charm and decency to be polite to him. Her own family might not have the decency. She hated to think what her Granny would do.

These thoughts had consumed Mary in the two days since she professed she did love Tom. The thoughts were becoming so unbearable she decided she could not wait till morning to have her conversation with Sybil. Mary sent Anna to fetch the younger girl and waited anxiously.

The door opened and Sybil walked in with a smile. "You wanted to speak with me?"

"Yes, about something rather important… you may leave, Anna." Anna curtsied and was gone.

"What is the matter?"

"I don't know how to say this delicately. You see, I've put myself in quite the predicament because I have fallen in love with Tom Branson… the chauffeur."

"My God, Mary!"

"I know, believe me I _know_. I never intended such a thing to happen."

"I'm quite proud of you really," said Sybil. "I mean, you've gone and done something quite daring. I'm glad you have put your emotions first."

"Yes, but it isn't that simple, Sybil. I don't dare to think about what will happen once everyone knows. Do you remember when it was discovered that Lord Carlton's daughter had been having relations with one of the footmen? I fear people's reaction to this will be far worse."

"You worry too much."

"People are cruel. They shall be cruel to Tom and he will not bite his tongue."

"I think the issue, as you put it, just has to be handled carefully. You must introduce him to the family first. When do you plan on doing that?" asked Sybil. Mary only stared at her sister. "You do plan on making this public do you not? Mary?"

/

Lady Grantham had used the car to visit the Dowager and so Tom was gone for most of the afternoon. Mary found herself slightly relieved as she could contemplate how to approach their situation. Tom had much pride. He was possibly even as proud a person as she was. He would not be pushed into a closet, never to be seen by anyone. Tom would not want their feelings to be pushed into the dark either. He had wanted the world to know they were one, and he was not afraid of it. Mary sighed, he just didn't understand the complications that would surely arise. People would be upset. Men that had been vying for her would look at the pair with distaste. Dowagers would shake their heads and wonder what happened to the young Lady Mary who wanted to be a countess. Countess of Grantham, preferably.

Mary knew what happened to that young girl. She was gone. Buried. Mary had wanted that so desperately, but her feelings surfaced and she found they were hard to ignore.

She would never be countess. She would never be viewed by society as the trophy among all the other ladies. She would be the girl who could have had everything, but instead abandoned it all for a man who was not even middle class. Her stomach hurt. She could feel the bile rising in her throat. She hated these thoughts. She hated the idea of being outcast. She hated to think of her Tom in such a way.

Mary rushed to the nearest bathroom, slammed the door, and sunk to her knees – though not to pray.

/

It was late evening when Mary finally got a chance to see the Irishman. She had escaped her family for the remainder of the evening. It had only been Granny at dinner and she had been in a sour mood.

Mary knocked on the garage door quietly. They had not talked about meeting and she wondered if he was eating downstairs. Mary smiled brightly as the door opened and Tom Branson faced her.

"Hello," he whispered. His eyes held a look of pure adoration and Mary pulled him to her. His lips were soft and she let her worries dissipate. They broke away and his smile widened. "That was quite the welcoming."

"It was beneficial to us both," she replied.

"How have you been? I know something has been on your mind."

"It does not matter."

"Mary, you can tell me."

"Telling you I loved you was important for me. I finally let my emotions out."

"I know. Is there more?"

Mary let it out in a rush. "What if I'm not strong enough to keep my emotions out?"

/

Mary had spoken with Sybil and Anna multiple times and knew the first step was having him for dinner with the rest of the family. The idea was daunting.

"You know that I am on your side. As well as Matthew since he knows all that has happened and has not breathed a word," Sybil said.

"I worry what Papa will think of me."

"He shall not instantly stop loving you. He may act in ways we wish he would not, he may greatly disapprove, but he will still love you because you are his daughter."

"That is true. However, I find disapproval worse than hatred."

Mary and Sybil had continued to talk in the library and Sybil urged her sister to invite Tom. There were still minor details to be worked out and Mary had yet to mention the idea to him. The result of her not talking about anything related to her family was leading to complications with Tom.

She understood why he was frustrated. He thought she was ashamed of her feelings towards him. While that was not entirely true, there was a part of her that knew she would be a letdown to her family. She tried to disregard that knowledge because the idea of herself being a letdown made her very ashamed. Mary loved him. She loved him more than she probably should. It was an unconditional love, which while not always expressed, was always there inside her.

Mary did not want to have to constantly validate her feelings for Tom. She wanted there to be no question of her love. Unfortunately Mary saw the only way of validating her feelings was by introducing Tom, first to her family and then the rest of society. They would ask if he was related to the Bransons in Northern England. He was from Ireland? They just loved the society in Ireland, but they could not recall any Bransons. Tom would tell them the truth and they would falter, then politely make their excuses and leave. Mary was the queen of false sincerity and she knew how to spot an insincere smile.

Mary felt another headache come on as she sat on her bed while Anna folded her clothes.

"Is something the matter, Lady Mary?"

"I'm sure you can guess what."

"If it makes you feel better, m'lady, no one downstairs suspects a thing," replied Anna.

"That does make me feel better, although I hardly think anyone downstairs would say something disrespectful against him."

"Mr. Carson might. I'm sure everyone would agree that Tom Branson is making a better life for himself. It is almost like Mr. Crawley. He did not have a notable status until he came to Downton. However now, Mr. Crawley is seen as a respectable and worthy man."

"Yes, but that is because Matthew shall be Lord Grantham one day."

"It is still moving up in a situation, is it not, Lady Mary?"

"I suppose you are right. Thank you, Anna. You truly are the best maid I have ever had."

/

Mary Crawley sat across from Matthew. It was tea and Mary had been forced by her parents to sit rather close to Matthew and rather far from the rest of the family. They were still very hopeful she might be able to patch things up with him as it was clear he showed no interest in Edith or Sybil.

"May I dare to guess that your family has no idea about Tom Branson?"

"You are correct on that matter."

"Why have you not told them?" he asked. Genuine curiosity was etched across his face and Mary marveled at how Matthew was still naive about customs of _her people_.

"Can you imagine the reaction? I'm not sure it is right to expose him to that kind of atmosphere. He would not be afraid to say something rather improper and then we would be seen as right fools."

"You dwell too much on the worst possibilities, Mary."

"I just do not wish for either of us to be unhappy. I fear that is something that has been set in stone since my birth," she replied. Mary thought of Patrick and the exhaustingly boring conversations she had had with him. She thought of the way he held no special regard for her, he thought her just as pretty as the other girls. Mary had been prepared to give her life to him.

Was she acting selfishly? Her Papa and Mama had always wanted her to inherit Downton and their wealth. That had been the plan. She was to marry the heir and the future of their money and Downton would be ensured. That was the plan. The plan had never changed, only the man in which she was supposed to marry.

"I think, Mary, you could be happy should you choose to be. You have to take situations you may not find enticing, and turn them into something positive. Sometimes you discover things you never would have."

"I think, Matthew Crawley, you are a very wise person."

He laughed at her reply. His blue eyes gazed into hers. Her heart fluttered.

 _She could be happy, should she choose to be._

/

She visited the garage later on to tell Tom that she was going to visit her Aunt Rosamund. She would spend a couple days there and would be occupied with whatever her aunt had planned.

His reaction was less than pleasing. His eyes wandered away from her face. He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded instead of forming words. She had let him down. She knew it. Mary tentatively pressed a kiss to his cheek. She felt sorrow.

"I will miss you terribly while I am away. I hope you know that," she said.

He nodded, his eyes still not looking directly into hers. "And when you get back will we have a proper talk? About our future. About everything that might happen."

"A proper talk, yes." It was her turn to glance away.

"You could never disappoint me."

"I love you," she replied. She knew he was trying to please her. She also knew he doubted her still. Worse, she had disappointed him already.

 _ **Okay, chapter three is done and things are already getting heavy. Sorry, no frolicking through the rain anymore… I hope you all are eager to know what happens next. Please review! I will try and upload chapter four AND five next week. The first two weeks of August I doubt I will be able to update, but I will try. It's getting busy as things go in to high gear.**_

 _ **I hope to finish this story before season six starts in the UK. When is that? I will be watching it online and I know I will want to write stories on season six. There are stories I wanted to write about season five, but I haven't gotten the chance.**_

 _ **I hope you are enjoying the quotes from this and 'Addiction'. There is a pattern.**_

 _ **Love you all and if you follow me on tumblr you won't regret it! Find me: mrsmarybranson (brary with a smidge of other stuff)**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thank you all for getting this story to 20 reviews! I am sorry to say that the first two weeks of August I will be busy. I'm not sure when I will have the chance to update, or if there will be a chance at all. I don't want you to think I'm abandoning this story… my life is just starting to get busy again is all.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I own nothing of Downton Abbey. Absolutely nothing.**_

 _The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven._

 _-Paradise Lost_

Mary had made the journey to London to see Aunt Rosamund. She had not stated a particular reason for her visit, but no doubt her aunt would ask many questions. Rosamund did not like to be left out of anything.

Mary sat in a plush chair across from her aunt who was giving her a calculated look. Her aunt sat up straighter and sat her teacup down. "I wish you would tell me what is so clearly troubling you."

Mary sat her teacup down carefully. "I suppose you have heard about what happened with Matthew."

"That you refused him? Yes Mama told me and she was quite upset about it."

"She wasn't the only one," said Mary.

"And why did you refuse him? He has not said, out of decency I suppose. However, I should like to get the answer out of you. We are family, don't forget."

"Of course, Aunt Rosamund. I do not know why I refused him. Part of me wonders—oh never mind."

"No, what were you going to say?"

Mary felt an immense amount of guilt at having to be secretive with almost everyone. She didn't like it. "Part of me wonders if he was perhaps the best offer I would receive."

"Of course he was the best offer. His proposal included Downton, your home, Mary."

"I know," said Mary as she rubbed her arms. She had guilt for refusing him. She had hurt her family. She had hurt Matthew, though he was going at hiding it.

"Then you must accept."

"Aunt Rosamund, he retracted his proposal. I cannot ask him to propose again."

"He would do it, if he thought you were certain. He is clearly willing to do whatever you wish."

"I cannot play with him in such a way. Matthew is a human being with feelings, and I must treat him as such."

"But you see? You do have feelings for him because you are trying to protect him," said Rosamund. Mary wondered if she heart a hint of desperation in her aunt's voice. Her aunt had possibly been instructed to not let Mary leave till she was certain Mary would end up with Matthew.

Mary shook her head. She cared about Matthew a great deal, that was true. She also cared about another man a great deal. A man who wanted to run off into the sunset to start a new life. A man her Papa would not be able to look in the eyes.

 _She could be happy, should she choose to be._

"I am unsure, Aunt Rosamund, and for that reason I cannot commit to him."

/

Mary's aunt had invited guests for dinner, each of them respectable figures in society. Mary knew them and they politely greeted her and inquired after her family's well-being. Several of the women prodded more and Mary knew it was in an effort to find out more about the heir. One of the women had a daughter about Mary's age who was in the same predicament and needed to marry a man with a title.

"My daughter, Lady Elsie quite loves horseback riding. Does your Mr. Crawley find riding enjoyable?"

Mary took a sip of her drink before giving the woman a polite smile. "Mr. Crawley has expressed no such interest. I should ask him though because, if you will remember Lady Reed, I quite enjoy riding."

The mother offered the same fake smile. Mary could tell the woman was about to question Mary further when Rosamund interjected. Her aunt began to talk about fashion and Lady Reed was soon going on about the latest shoes from America.

Mary moved farther away and drank silently. She had not expected women to be so forward. However, it had been known that Lady Mary was to marry Patrick Crawley. It was not known if she was to now marry Matthew Crawley, but outside families were eager to slip their daughters in. The thought made Mary angry and she sat her drink down and glanced out at the dark sky. Mary liked London, but nothing could compare to Downton. She did not desire to live in London, and she did not know if she and Tom could afford an area she would deem acceptable. Mary doubted her father would want to give money to them. The idea that his eldest daughter had run off with a chauffeur would make him angry for eternity with her.

Mary sniffed and rubbed her arms again.

"Lady Mary, are you unwell?"

"In fact, I am Lord Denison. Pardon me, everyone, but I think it would be best if I retired for the night."

Mary headed up the stairs after her aunt gave her a look. She had not lived up to expectations. That was becoming a common occurrence.

/

Mary had no one to talk to. She had people who were willing to listen, but they did not know the entire story. Mary could not tell the entire story. She was desperate for someone to give their opinion, but there was no unbiased group. Aristocratic people would tell her to accept Matthew and the common people would tell her to run off with Tom. There was no one would tell her to consider which was the best option for herself. Which life would Mary be happiest in? She knew, should she try, she could be somewhat happy in either situation. It was a question of if she was willing to give up the life she had—to leave it forever. Mary feared the answer.

Infidelity. The word was bitter on her tongue and Mary knew she could not commit such a crime. Whomever she married was the man she would be faithful to till their death or hers. She was many things, but disloyal was not one of them. Mary Crawley was loyal to her family and she had been prepared to be loyal to Patrick for life.

Perhaps she was disloyal to people's memories. She did not put on rose glasses when speaking of Patrick Crawley, her fiancé. She knew the truth of the man. He was dull, knowledgeable, and his humor was sparse. Mary had never hesitated on pursuing men after his death. She had not felt twinges of guilt when offering smiles to young men, which included the new heir of Downton. Mary now knew why she had not felt disloyal. She never loved Patrick.

Patrick Crawley, a man of no mystery. He knew his role when it was clear Cora Crawley would not produce a son. He never gloated about the position he was in and Mary was thankful to him for that. He was reasonable and realistic, he always had been. When they were young and would play with Lord Merton's children, Patrick would go off by himself. He was only interested in logical things. Love was not logical. Love made no sense and therefore was omitted from his vocabulary. He had never once told Mary he loved her.

" _Your company is most welcome, Mary."_

He had never dared to tell her he cared about her. This did not devastate Mary, who found her match the most unexciting man in England. What bothered her was that he treated her no better than the other ladies he mingled with. She did not wish him to crawl on his knees for her, but she wanted him to acknowledge he was lucky to marry her. He did neither.

Mary expected the new heir, the _replacement_ for Patrick, would be just as unappealing. It was one of the few times Mary Crawley had been proved wrong. He physically looked like an aristocratic man. His blonde thick hair and bright blue eyes matched with his tall straight posture. However, Mary knew he was from the middle class. While he was nice for the eyes, he came from a lower stance than Patrick. That had been Mary's first thought, how unworthy he was of Downton and of her.

It seemed like a joke gone wrong. She had not only fallen for the lawyer from Manchester, she had fallen for the Irish chauffeur. The joke was on her. It was her fault. Mary had been so careless because of Pamuk. The incident had unleashed a side of Mary that she never wished to let out. She let her heart guide her decisions, but no more. She could not afford to live so lavishly as to let her heart decide her future. A brief moment passed where Mary wished she was a nobody that could marry a nobody.

She wished she was just a Mary that could marry a Tom.

/

"I do think you should stay longer, Mary dear," said Rosamund.

"I have enjoyed my stay, Aunt Rosamund. I miss Downton and my family."

Rosamund's lips pursed. "I think your mother wanted you to stay to clear your head."

"Yes and I shall leave for my head is cleared. I will speak to Mama… and I have much to discuss with Matthew."

At Mary's words her aunt's face broke into a smile. She moved to sit next to her niece and patted Mary's shoulder. "You are doing what is right, dearest. You are saving the family."

Mary nodded. She was saving the family. She had always wanted to save her family but the question remained: could she save them?

/

She had never been religious enough. It wasn't her parents fault. She believed in God. She called on the Lord when she most needed it. Mary knew she needed to pray more often. She was a sinner and she had to repent. She had to seek help through worship, something she had not done much in her life.

Mary had learned a prayer from Tom. They had talked about religion a few times. Tom and his family were Catholic. Mary knew very little about the religion because she had not been acquainted with Catholics. The aristocracy is England had few Catholics—and that was how they wanted to keep things.

Mary wondered what was so wrong with Catholics and so she asked Tom. He told her they believed in, Jesus Christ just as she did. That was enough for Mary. Tom had continued to tell her things and Mary found one prayer comforting. She could not utter it around her family because they would question her.

She bent on her knees, hands clasped together as she was alone in her aunt's guest room.

"Hail Mary, full of grace. Our Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus," she whispered. A tear fell. "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen."

/

The travel back to Downton was less than enjoyable. Mary tried to calm her nerves but found that she only grew more anxious. She hoped that it would just be her parents and her sisters who greeted her. She could not think of Granny bombarding her or having to face Matthew so soon. He was under the impression things were resolved between them, but Mary knew they were far from it. She selfishly longed to see Tom despite the guilt that surfaced. She did not want to betray him. She did not want to betray anyone.

Mary's wishes had been answered as only her immediate family greeted her. She even hugged Edith as she felt relief course through her. The blonde's face held surprise but she quickly hugged Mary back.

"Your grandmother and Isobel and Matthew will be here for dinner," said Robert as they entered the home.

"Are they expecting details on my stay with Aunt Rosamund?"

"Rosamund sounded chipper on the phone," noted Cora.

Mary said nothing. She offered her mother a small smile as they stood inside. "I was hoping that I could go upstairs and freshen up. I'm quite tired from the journey although it was not a long one. Would you mind terribly?"

"Of course not, my darling. You must be worn out. Go upstairs and freshen up. We can wait a little bit to hear how your stay was," said Cora. Her mother's smile was wide. Mary knew what her Mama was thinking. Rosamund must have phoned as soon as Mary left to tell them the good news. Mary was going to speak with Matthew and only one thing could come of this. Mary let out a deep breath and tried to plaster on the façade she had for years.

 _ **There you have it! I hope this chapter has left you with much to think about. Next we will have the showdown of Mary and her parents and whatever will she say to Matthew? More Brary next chapter (the good, the bad, the ugly, and every other thing).**_

 _ **Also I know the concept of religion hasn't entered this story so I thought I would mention that I have nothing against Catholics, Protestants, etc. That was just some of the feelings at the time expressed (as evidence in the show with the baptizing of Sybbie drama) and I wrote them in.**_

 _ **Please review it would mean the world.**_

 _ **I'm thinking of posting a list of books at the end that has the quotes from these chapters as well as from 'Addiction'. They're wonderful books/plays.**_

 _ **Follow me on tumblr: mrsmarybranson**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thank you so much for more than 25 reviews! I'm glad that I am keeping you guys hooked on wanting more. I apologize for not being able to update sooner, but I've been quite busy. I hope you enjoy this chapter. You have no idea for the ride you are in for—I suggest you hold on.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: not a thing of Downton Abbey is mine. Not a damn thing.**_

 _She seemed to know that if she swayed the family shook, and if she ever deeply wavered or despaired the family would fall._

 _-The Grapes of Wrath_

Mary would not describe her relationship with Rosamund as close. She was her aunt, a guide for how a lady should act in the aristocratic world. From a young age Mary had looked up to her aunt. Rosamund dressed well, the woman adored fashion, and was loved by Marmaduke. She had it all—except the title that Mary had always desperately craved.

Mary remembered her fifth birthday party. She had wanted the spotlight to be on her but everyone was cooing over how Lady Sybil had just learned to walk.

 _Mary watched her youngest sister in her fluffy dress with her wild dark hair as she plopped down on the floor. Edith, at the proud age of three, sat next to Mary with an equally displeased look._

" _It is_ my _birthday," Mary reminded everyone. Why could her sister not wait another week to start stumbling around their home?_

" _Yes, dear and we will celebrate. We're only enjoying your sister's new accomplishment. Be happy for her."_

" _I don't care what Sybbie can or cannot do."_

" _Mary, behave like a lady should," said Cora._

 _Mary had gone sulking back to her chair as she watched the grownups clap and fawn over Sybil more. For once, Mary was on Edith's side that it wasn't fair everyone preferred their little sister. She crossed her arms and kicked a small lump in the carpet. Mary sat staring at the floor until someone stood in from of her. Mary looked up and smiled._

" _Auntie Rosamund!"_

" _Hello, Mary dear. I've noticed you look quite upset."_

 _Mary nodded and glared at the rest of the party across the room. "Everyone is paying great attention to Sybbie, I mean Sybil, and not me. They have forgot it is my birthday."_

" _They have not forgotten. There is a cake to be brought out and it is for you. They will sing your name, not Sybil's or Edith's, but your name."_

" _I do not want to wait till then." A wine was creeping into Mary's voice._

" _You shall anyways. My dear, it is not good to always have the spotlight on you. You must choose your moments. Let Sybil have this moment because the rest of the party shall celebrate you and I can guarantee that."_

That was the first time Mary had received actual advice from her aunt and it wouldn't be the last. Mary's trip to London was proof that her aunt thought she knew best.

She was shaken out of her thoughts as Edith entered the room. Her sister eagerly began cutting her food. The scent hit Mary's nose and she felt the urge to leave the room.

"Do you have to eat something that smells so foul?"

"What on Earth are you talking about? It's just toast with jam," replied Edith defensively.

Mary bit her tongue and looked away. She didn't understand Edith's love for all things disgusting. She didn't want to draw continue the conversation and quickly said, "If you will excuse me."

Mary fled the room gratefully and headed towards the garage. She slipped out without anyone noticing and knocked on the doors. Mary met the familiar gaze of Tom. A smile appeared on his face as he ushered her in.

"How are you?" he asked politely.

"Fine, thank you. And you?"

"Well. Very well."

"Are you leaving at all today?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm taking your mother and sister into Ripon later."

"I see." Mary resisted the urge to sit on the nearby stool.

"Is there something in particular you came here for?" he asked with a teasing smile. Mary felt heat rise to her cheeks at what he was insinuating.

"I had to get away from Edith."

"Speaking of your family—"

"Were we really?" asked Mary.

Tom shrugged. "We are now. I was wondering when you plan on informing your family of us."

"I've already told Sybil."

"But that's not everyone."

"You have to give me time, Tom. This is a delicate matter that I cannot just say during casual conversation."

"You do love me don't you?" he asked. Mary gazed into his eyes and nodded. Of course she loved the man. She loved him more than she should. "I love you," he added.

Mary ran her fingers along the side of the car. The garage was a sort of sanctuary and it felt, dare she say it, _natural_ to be in the space with Tom. It all felt so deliciously natural. She fought the urge to wallow in self-pity and asked, "Is it okay if I stay here for a bit?"

"You can stay here until I leave."

"Of course. I should have no reason to be here without you."

/  
Mary sunk down onto the bench as she waited for her breathing to return to normal. She had gone for a walk around Downton and thankfully had not gotten lost. However, she had discovered her physique was severely awful. She had walked barely a lap when she rushed towards the bench to relieve herself. When had she become so old? As a young girl Mary had skipped across Downton's grass as she was determined to outrun her sisters. Mary's seven year old self would be ashamed at the person she had become.

Mary's chest continued to rise and fall quickly and she pressed her hand against her forehead. It was an unusually hot day. Mary adjusted her dress and stood back up. She was done walking for the day. Mary had moved one step when she saw a familiar figure riding up the driveway. Matthew.

He didn't notice her at first, but when he did he veered in her direction and hopped off. Mary frowned at the fact he had the decency to stay physically healthy.

"Cousin Mary how are you?"

"Well thank you. And you?"

"Perfectly well. I was on my way to see Cousin Robert but I do have a few minutes to spare." His tone was questioning as laid his bicycle down.

"I am glad to hear it! I value your talks. Besides, Cousin Cora said you had something to tell me." Matthew's tone was innocent.

Mary cursed at her mother's interference. The family's thought was that it was not Mary's choice to accept his proposal, it was their choice. Mary hid her anger and replied, "I do have a bit but some can wait for a later time."

"I hope it's nothing serious."

"I can make no promises," said Mary with a small smile.

"Am I to assume you have not told your family of your feelings for Tom Branson?"

"Heavens no!" cried Mary. "They know nothing and I should like to keep it that way for a while."

"Your parents love you and I'm sure they will accept your decision."

"It is very complicated," she said. Mary thought of her parents urging her towards Matthew desperately. She thought of Rosamund praising her for saving the family. She thought of who Downton's mistress could be and she nearly hurled at the thought. "I am not even definite on certain feelings."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Mary nodded in agreement and craftily steered the conversation in a different direction. She could only hope that Matthew had no idea of what her family was conspiring for her to do.

/

Mary watched from the window as her mother and Edith climbed into the car. They ignored Branson besides the polite nod. They had no idea the chauffeur loved their eldest daughter, the one destined for Matthew. They knew nothing about the fact Tom's strong hands had caressed Mary's body from head to toe. They did not know Tom loved to press kisses along Mary's neck. And God, they did not know how Mary enjoyed every second of it.

/

Her family continued to torment her by sitting her next to Matthew and insisting no one else join their conversations. Edith had been pulled away more than once and Sybil—who thought Matthew only a friend—was not allowed to strike up a conversation. Matthew didn't seem to notice or care as he continued to talk to Mary about the latest book he was reading and current events. Mary would glance around the room and Granny would smile approvingly every time their eyes met.

"I'm sorry, I'm boring you to death aren't I?" he asked as her eyes glanced away and back. He ran a hand through his hair due to nerves.

"You are certainly not. I do not get to enjoy talks like this with other people." He smiled at her statement and continued on. Mary smiled as his eyes brightened in excitement. When Isobel declared it was time for them to depart, Mary felt a disappointment seep through her. She waved goodbye to him and blew a kiss to Isobel as the car drove off.

Edith began to complain the moment they were gone. Edith couldn't believe how unfair her parents were being. Mary could.

"I just do not understand why Mary of all people is the only one that can talk to Cousin Matthew."

"Mary has an important duty to fill. We have not given up on her yet and that means you and Sybil mustn't distract the two," said Cora. She was frowning in Edith's direction as she sat down in her chair.

"Perhaps Mary is thinking carefully about her options. I, for one, do not see that as a bad thing," Sybil said. Mary gave a grateful smile to her youngest sister. Sybil was always the savior.

"It's still highly unfair," mumbled Edith as she glared at Mary.

Mary could not have been gladder for the night ending. It did not take long for Mary to change into her night attire. She pulled the covers over her as sleep started to consume her.

/

All Mary knew was that it was early morning when she sat up in bed. She glanced around her room and knew she would never be able to return to sleep. Mary rang the bell for Anna as she hoped the young woman was up.

A few minutes later Anna appeared and smiled. "How are you today, milady?"

"I was exhausted beyond belief yesterday, but today I'm much better."

"That is good. Would you like the red dress Lady Mary?"

"Oh yes, I quite like that one." Anna began dressing her as Mary continued to chat about yesterday's events. It had not been long when Anna stopped her motions. Mary disregarded the woman's actions and continued to complain about Edith. It was only when Anna's hands did not continue their motion that Mary stopped mid-sentence.

"Whatever is the matter, Anna?"

The blonde stumbled over her words, but quickly collected herself. "I don't mean to be rude, milady but it seems your dress will not button."

"What do you mean?"

"It seems your dress no longer fits, Lady Mary."

"That's preposterous. I've been the same dress size for years."

"I don't know how it happened. Some accident must have happened. I'm sorry." Anna's face fell and she stared at the floor.

"It cannot be your fault, you always handle my clothes perfectly. Never the less, if the dress will not fit there is no use for it."

"I will bring a new dress that will be fine, milady."

"Yes, yes just set that one aside."

Anna left in a hurry to find Mary a new dress. While she was gone Mary stood in front of a mirror. She had not grown taller. She had not grown since she was fifteen. Mary's things were no thicker and her hips were still nicely small. The red dress had always hugged her body more than her other dresses but it made no sense.

Anna came back and Mary forgot the issue. As long as Edith did not get her dress, all was well.

/

It was midafternoon and the ladies were seated when freshly baked cookies were brought in. The plate was set down and Cora marveled at Ms. Pattmore's cooking. Mary leaned in to grab a cookie when the lemon sent invaded her nose. She cringed at the smell and dropped the cookie. However, Edith was undeterred and grabbed several of the lemon snacks. Mary's senses could not handle that and she bolted out the room. She found an empty hallway and stood to catch her breath. Mary had never loved lemon cookies but she would not object to one.

As Mary turned a sudden feeling of dread filled her. Her fingers grasped air as she let out a breath she had been holding.

 _She was drowning._

/

Her travel to London was unannounced to her family. Her bags had been packed and thankfully Anna asked no questions. The maid was clearly still upset about the dress situation but Mary had no time to comfort her.

Tom had driven her father out to visit Granny and the second car was taken. Mary thanked the Lord.

The travel seemed slower than usual and Mary wondered what her family would think when they discovered her absence. She had said she had business to take care of and would stay with Rosamund.

Mary found a taxi and quickly directed it to her aunt's address. "Thank you," she whispered as she stepped out.

Rosamund greeted her in the parlor. There was no small talk as she waited to see why Mary had returned so suddenly.

"I know you must be confused," Mary said. "The thing is I have no one to turn to. No one at all. I hope you will help me as you always have."

"You are all riddles. What are you talking about?"

Mary's lip quivered as she began to tell her aunt of recent events. "And that," she ended. "Is why I have come to you."

"I see," replied Rosamund. Her aunt's face held a look of disappointment. "We must know for sure. The only option is to make an appointment. Under a false name, of course."

Mary nodded. "Thank you."

"And what if your assumption is correct?"

Mary's lip turned up. "Then I am ruined either way."

/

 _Miss Levinson you are with child. Miss Levinson you are with child._

The words echoed in Mary's head as she sat in the doctor's office. She was with a reliable man, but she stated her name as Josephine Levinson to be safe. She was glad she was.

The great and unmarried Lady Mary Crawley was pregnant. Her hand clutched her hat and she stared at the feather. Without glancing up she asked her aunt, "What am I to do?"

"I will help save you Mary, but you must agree to something and agree to it now," said Rosamund. Mary's eyes closed and she tried to steady her breathing. She never got what she wanted, did she?

 **Wow this is the longest chapter so far. I'm so sorry for not updating for so long but I have been incredibly busy. I hope you guys like this chapter. Did you expect that bombshell? Of course we all know who the baby daddy is… a brary baby, so that means it will all be okay right? Stay tuned.**

 **Please review and tell me what you think.**

 **Follow me on tumblr: mrsmarybranson**


	6. Chapter 6

_**First off, thank you for all the reviews! 35 is awesome for five chapters considering I've left you hanging for a while. It's interesting (in my mind) to see that almost all of you have little faith in Mary. I hope you are all enjoying the story as it progresses. Last chapter, a lot of people got excited over the fact Mary is pregnant. A brary baby! However, like all things Downton Abbey, it will not be smooth sailing. I hope you guys stick with the story even after this twist, because there will be M &T interaction. Enjoy! **_

_We'll leave now, so that this moment will remain a perfect memory... let it be our song and think of me every time you hear it._

 _-A Tree Grows in Brooklyn  
_

"In order for me to hide you away for months, keep all of this from the family, and because of your own actions, you must marry Matthew. I am saving you from not just the family, but society. In return, you must save the family," said Rosamund. Her eyes were hard and a disappointed look graced her face.

Mary knew this was the end. No marrying Tom, no living with him in a cottage far from peering eyes and talk of her dishonor. There would be none of that. No happy ending. If she agreed, she would be saving their baby. _Their baby._ It was odd to imagine that a living being was inside her stomach and growing. She would give her life away, for the baby. Tom's baby.

"And," said Rosamund. "You have said yourself Matthew is a nice and respectful man. You could do far worse."

Mary gulped down the bile that was starting to rise in her throat. This was her fault. She had given in to temptation and then run away with it while stringing along two men. Mary shook her head and focused on her aunt's words. "Then you must agree not to press me on the matter of who the father is."

Rosamund's lips pursed and her hands tightened before she regained her aristocratic poker face. "Yes."

Mary felt the urge to cry as she stuck her hand out to her aunt and said, "It is a deal then."

Rosamund leapt into action then as she began planning a story and where they would go. What would they tell Robert? They would have to hire maids when they got to wherever they were going, but who to hire? What would she tell her servants?

"We only have so long before you start to show. He said you are a bit along, but we cannot waste time."

"My dresses are already becoming tighter, Aunt Rosamund. I don't understand why we are staying 10 months if I am already along in the pregnancy."

"You must ween the child before you hand it off to a family. That is what we are doing, handing it off to a middle class respectable family. That is the best option we have if we go to France or Switzerland. I haven't decided which is better."

Mary watched her aunt become more frazzled as she tried to think of a story that would permit Mary to leave for almost a year. The thought of being away from Downton, from home for so long was frightening. Mary reminded herself that she would be spending the rest of her life there as Lady Mary Crawley and then Countess of Grantham. That is what she had agreed to.

/

Downton welcomed Mary and Rosamund back within a day. Cora was happy to see her daughter and sister-in-law and sat down with them to talk. This was just a social gathering to Cora.

Mary felt her stomach drop as she thought about the talk she was going to have to have with Tom. It would be brutal, but she knew what the final outcome had to be—her walking away. She would walk away and not dare look back and see the heart she was breaking. That power used to appeal to her, but not anymore.

When the subject of fashion came up and Cora gushed about new hats and Rosamund smiled as if she wasn't hiding a secret, Mary knew she could take no more. She politely made her excuses and vanished from their sight. Mary stood in the hallway, her hands covering her stomach in wonder and dismay at her widening waist. This moment was supposed to feel incredible for a woman. Mary could not help but feel a bit ashamed at the lack of love she felt for the alive and growing being in her stomach.

Her hands fell to her sides as she thought about the fact it would never matter if she was a good mother, not with this child. Not with _their_ child.

/

Dinner was nice because Mary got a last look at her family before she would depart with Rosamund to Switzerland. That's where they decided to go.

"Attention!" called Rosamund as she waved her arm slightly.

Everyone set their glasses down and the wine sloshed back and forth. Exactly how Mary's stomach felt.

"I've got an announcement to make," continued Rosamund. "Mary and I will be traveling to Switzerland where we shall improve upon our painting and drawing and perhaps French too."

Cora raised her eyebrows. "My, my. How long do you plan to be away?"

"I'm afraid it takes commitment and we shall not return before 10 months have passed," Rosamund replied.

At her words, Cora's mouth fell open in an unflattering way and Robert began to sputter. He finally asked, "Why on earth must you be gone so long?"

Mary decided to intervene. "We must be dedicated, Papa. I know I will miss all of you, but this is something I very much want to do and Aunt Rosamund agrees."

"It's a wonderful idea, Robert. Let your daughter have some freedom. Besides, time away makes the heart grow fonder."

Robert nodded at this. Time away could make Mary jump into the arms of Matthew when she returned. He nodded his approval before downing the rest of his wine.

Cora sighed and said, "I still think it is too long for a mother to be away from her child."

Mary's stomach lurched and her fork clanked against her plate. Edith gave her a look and Mary scowled in return.

"Cora, I think it will be fine. And she will be with my sister, do not forget that."

Cora shrugged and then gave Mary a half smile. "If it is really what you want, then of course you may go."

"Excellent."

"I shall miss you terribly," said Sybil.

Edith said nothing and they continued to eat their food.

/

Anna folded Mary's clothes as she processed Mary's words. "Ten months is a long time, milady."

"Yes I know and I will miss you dearly, Anna. Not just as a maid, but as a friend. You have done so much for me that I can never repay."

"Thank you, Lady Mary. That means quite a lot."

"Anna?"

"Yes milady."

"The clothes situation—do not worry about it. When I return I daresay they shall fit me again."

/

It was the next morning, when the servants were loading her luggage, that Mary had the courage to talk to Tom. He would not be taking them to the train station. This would be her final moment with him for a long time.

She headed to the garage and part of her prayed that he was in there, part of her prayed he was not. However, he was and he wore a large smile as he took in her appearance. Mary felt large, but she was glad to see he did not think the same.

"Hello."

"Hello, Tom."

"I am curious to know why everyone is talking about Lady Mary leaving."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, we never would have worked. We are different people you and I. We come from different worlds that do not blend. I think I've known this for a while, but I didn't, _couldn't_ tell you so. Now that I will be leaving for a while, well, you needed to know."

The words burned on her tongue but she pictured the baby, his baby that would have a nice life. He would want their baby to have a good life, she knew that much.

"I don't understand what you are saying. You are being mad after all the things we have done. I'm in love with you, Mary. You cannot tell me that you haven't felt anything."

"Of course I felt things," she cried. "I cannot pretend to be so heartless as to admit I have felt nothing between us. I have. It does not matter in the end what I feel though, because this is how it ends. Today, this moment. I hope you will not think poorly of me forever after."

"I love you, Mary. That is what matters."

"Please, please do not make this difficult for us. I shall think of you as a strong, good, proud Irishman." Tears were starting to fall down the sides of her cheeks as she saw the disappointed look on his face. She broke him. Mary wiped her face dry and walked closer and pressed her lips against his for a brief moment. She pulled away and gazed into his brilliant blue eyes. "And if you think of me, think of that. Pendant tout le temps qui passe, il n'est pas un moment où j'ai oublié de vous."

She turned and pushed open the garage door before heading towards the waiting car. She did not look back.

/

"It will be a long travel, but not unbearable," said Rosamund. Her aunt had been trying to make conversation the past few minutes. Mary nodded in acknowledgement before turning away. Rosamund would have none of it as she asked, "Did you say goodbye to him?"

Mary jumped and practically snarled, "Who?"

"Matthew. Did you say goodbye to him and his mother?"

Mary's shoulders relaxed as she spoke the truth. "No, I felt it best for Mama to explain since she has a way with crafting words."

"It may make him fonder of you, that is true," said Rosamund with a nod of her head.

"I mean no offense to Matthew when I say I can hardly pretend to care what he thinks at the moment."

"My dear, you cannot afford to say such things considering the predicament we are in because you simply _did not care_."

Mary's cheeks reddened but she made no effort to come back with an equally stinging comment. She found she got tired faster and it was better to save her energy for things worth fighting for.

/

Whatever food they had served did not sit well in Mary's stomach as she rushed to the bathroom for the third time that evening. Rosamund had afforded to be mildly sympathetic as Mary would mutter an apology before leaping out of her chair. The old Mary would have been beyond embarrassed, but pregnant Mary did not give a damn.

She wondered what the health of the baby was considering the amount of times the food that Mary had taken in just went back out. She would have to ask about the baby's health. She could not quite bring herself to admit the baby was hers. Mary was not maternal, she had not thought about it with Patrick beyond the one son they had to have. Well, she would have to think about motherhood if she was to be a wife soon, and according to her aunt they better start measuring her now.

After refusing dinner, Mary curled up and squeezed her eyes shut. Perhaps, she could dream away recent events. She was sure Tom had understood what she told him in French. He was full of surprises. She could not bear to think of his face covered with tears or the thought of him angrily punching his pillow.

Selfishly, she could not bear to think of him not caring about what she told him.

His baby, all of this was for his baby. He would never know and she could never tell him how selfless she was being. If Mary had told him he surely would have forbid her to leave, to not give the idea of a family between them a chance. And really, had she ever been prepared to run off with him? The thought of waking up in the morning was enticing, but could she have done it? Mary did not know if she was strong enough.

/

"This is the decision you want to make correct?" asked Rosamund.

"Are you suggest I get rid of it?" Mary asked.

"I'm not suggesting anything, merely asking."

"I do not think I can. Even if I wanted to, what reasonable place would I go? No, we are in this. We are on the way to Switzerland and we are in this for good."

/

Mary put her feet down on Switzerland soil and glanced around. It would be her home for the next few months and looking at the foliage and feeling the sun beam down on her, Mary thought perhaps this experience would be bearable.

They took a car to the home they would be staying at. The details of servants were still being worked out much to Rosamund's dismay.

All of their luggage was carrying in and Mary wondered how much longer the dresses she brought would fit her and when she would get to wear them again.

The baby was growing and Mary's stomach was proof as she pressed her palm against her naval. Her lips turned slightly upward and she whispered, "Hello there".

 _ **Sorry it took me so long to update! I know you might be freaking out that Mary is going to marry Matthew, but there is A LOT to come. Keep your seatbelts on and do not exit the ride, we are just getting started. I hope you review!**_

 _ **Also, the decision of Mary having the baby is not a reflection of my views on abortion or me trying to put my views onto you. I am not here to have this turn into a Pro-choice versus Pro-life debate over a fanfic story. However, I just wanted to clear the air in case anyone thought I was. We are entitled to our opinions whatever your stance (if you have one… most of us do though) on abortion. My decision was based purely on the direction I wanted this story to go. We are all free to talk about it as we wish.**_

 _ **Also, there will be things coming up that deal with adoption and abortion (just talk of the latter, it's not happening because it doesn't work for my plot). I want to say that I have nothing against adoption, even though characters in the future may speak ill of it. As a person who is in fact adopted, I want to say that I think it is a wonderful thing. Back then though there was question of the child not truly belonging or not being loved the same as if they were blood related. So that will be coming up.**_

 _ **After all this, I hope you continue reading and showing your excitement. There is brary to come! Hopefully google translate will do the job if you type the French in there. Please, tell me what you think.**_

 _ **I'm on tumblr! Follow me: mrsmarybranson**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Hello everyone. First off, I would like to say how sorry I am for leaving you hanging all these days. I hope you're excited for this chapter. I know it may not seem like there will be brary, but bear with me. I cannot promise anything other than I think it would be worth your while to read this story. I'm so excited with the direction I'm taking things. I hope you review and let me know what your guesses are. Speaking of reviews… 45+ I'm astounded! Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story, you give me such a confidence boost. With that being said, I'll stop going on and let you read!**_

 _ **Also, this chapter is going to span months because I didn't want to go into too much detail about Mary's pregnancy or things that happen in Switzerland. The real drama, although it does travel sometimes, is back at Downton.**_

 _He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words._

 _-One Hundred Years of Solitude_

Mary had requested that Anna write to her. She wanted to keep tabs on what was happening at Downton and she knew she would get nothing but the truth from her trusted maid. Mary had spent the first days anxiously waiting for letters before her aunt demanded Mary do something with her time.

So she did. They started painting and drawing. Well, Mary did while Rosamund chatted away about meaningless things or went out for fresh air when she couldn't take the confinement any longer. Mary went out, but she it would become increasingly uncomfortable to walk up and down the streets of Switzerland as she gained weight. So Mary painted to try and forget everything. If she was busy mixing two analogous colors she would not remember the face Tom had made when she broke his heart. If she was busy drawing the exact shape of the grapes, she would not have to think about how filthy she was.

The doors were pushed up and Mary looked up from her current work, a picture of herself and Sybil. Rosamund thanked the maid and waited for her to exit before she scanned through the letters. "One from Robert, however it is addressed to me. One from Cousin Matthew to you, oh and one from your maid, Anna."

Mary felt relief course through her as she grabbed the letters. She settled herself in the chair across from Rosamund. She opened the letter from Anna first.

 _Lady Mary,_

 _I hope that you are well and I hope Lady Rosamund is well. I know that you requested I write you and I hope you are satisfied with what I have written. Lady Edith and Lady Sybil are well and they have both said they miss you terribly. I am keeping watch on your room which has not been disturbed. Everyone sends you well wishes, and although he didn't say it, Mr. Carson especially._

 _There is one matter that I know you would want to hear of. It concerns Tom Branson. I hope I am not imposing but I thought this should not slip by. He begged me to tell him where you were exactly. Do not worry, Lady Mary I have said to everyone that all I know is you are with Lady Rosamund to improve on your painting skills. Tom Branson has begged me to tell him where he can write letters and that you need to hear what he has to say. I do not wish to get involved, however Lady Mary he has gone hoarse from asking me about you. Would you want me to send his letters along with mine?_

 _I hope you are well and comfortable, Lady Mary._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Anna Smith_

Mary nearly dropped the letter but quickly snatched it back and folded it. For a brief moment she thought about saying yes. Yes, Tom could write to her. Yes, he could say everything he wanted to.

But no, that would only lead him on. Mary could not pretend that they had a future when they did not. They were not meant to be, that was a known fact now. Mary rested her hand on her stomach as a reminder of why she was doing this. Tom would want their baby to live and to live a good life.

Rosamund glanced up at her niece and sighed, "What did Anna say?"

"Nothing surprising."

"I suggest you open that letter from Matthew and see what he has to say. My dear, this will all only be more painful if you make it so. You need to try and embrace the certain future."

"I feel as if my entire life is askew and nothing I say or do will fix it," replied Mary. "I shall do what you say though, since the show must go on and the acting must not dwindle."

/

Mary's back hurt more than it ever had. Once, she had fallen onto her back while riding her horse as a young girl, but that did not compare to the nonstop ache she felt. The doctor had come and gone. He said that although Mary was in a lot of discomfort, the baby was healthy and all seemed to be going right.

Mary was as enormous as she had been in her entire life. She could no longer see her feet when she walked and she found herself needing to use the restroom every four minutes. She was a sight and a poor one at that. She envied the skinny foreign made that brought them their mail and helped them change each night.

The saddest part of it was that if Tom were here he would say she looked beautiful. He would say it didn't matter her stomach looked like a balloon about to pop. Because inside, was their baby. And Mary could not feel less connected to the being inside her. She refused to call it her baby. It was "it" or "the baby". She could not form a bond between something she would not get to keep, not get to be part of. Mary felt her eyes begin to water and she cursed how emotional she had gotten over the last few months.

/

"We need to start planning who will take the baby after it has been weened."

"Does it not seem a bit early to begin thinking about all of that?"

"Well we cannot wait till the baby is born! We must find a suitable family that seems good enough to raise a baby with Crawley blood in it."

"I don't think that will matter since the baby will never be a Crawley. And, I am supposed to sign my name as Mary Levinson so I do not think the Crawley factor matters much at all."

"There is some part of our conscience that must find a respectable family. I will know I have a great niece or nephew out there and if I dare to think about it I want to be assured we did the right thing in handing off the baby to a family that can try and love it as much as their own."

Mary frowned at her aunt's last statement. "Whatever do you mean by try?"

"I should think it obvious. They cannot possibly love a child that is not related to them by blood. They look at the child and it has the eyes of a woman they meet once. The child has curly hair and both the parents have hair straight as straw. The child has a humor that does not match theirs. These are inevitable and so they will try and love the child like their own, but it will _never_ be the same."

Mary did not know whether to argue with her aunt's point or to start crying at the thought. How could that be true? A child was a child, the fundamentals were the same. "I do not think that can be right."

"My dear, it is the truth. Why do you think there are so little of our people who have kids that are not blood related? It is not the same love and this is accepted. But some love is better, rather than none, is the thought of people who take in a children born by another."

"After saying that, how do you expect us to find a suitable family?"

"My dear, a child's love is unconditional and a person wants that and will pay whatever the price. That is what you keep in mind as we find candidates. This will go smoothly and I will be here to help with the whole process."

/

Mary eyed the couple across from her as they eagerly spoke of their dreams of a family. They were older than Mary. She had red hair and he had thick brown hair and brown eyes. They seemed nice enough and they were dressed in what Mary assumed was their nicest clothes. They had just come from church.

Rosamund lead most of the conversation and when the couple rose to leave Mary murmured a goodbye and avoided eye contact.

"What did you think of that couple?"

"No."

"That is the fourth couple you have said you did not approve. They were older yes, but pleasant for middle class people."

"I still say know."

Rosamund huffed and said, "You cannot afford to be so selective. Each day you get closer to the end of the pregnancy which means each day we have nowhere for the baby to go."

Mary crumbled as tears began to fall. Her arms fell to her sides as she scooted away from her aunt. She wiped her eyes hurriedly and said, "Tomorrow. Let's continue tomorrow."

Rosamund nodded in agreement and left to walk the streets. Mary relished the alone time and pulled out her latest letters. She had a letter from Sybil filling her in on the Isobel and Granny drama about the hospital. Mary was happy to hear her youngest sister was in high spirits. She had a letter from Anna, who always ended with the reminder that Tom wanted to know how she was and if he could write her. The last letter was from Matthew. He wrote to her about his dealings with her father on learning to run Downton. He wrote to her about things he thought of to say at dinners, but no one but her would enjoy them. He missed her, he wrote, and hoped they would see each other soon.

He was a good man. Mary wondered if he could read her emotion through her letters. With pressure from her aunt, Mary had begun her sweet talking but found it much harder to pull a man in through letters. She tried not to be blunt to save them both embarrassment but she also knew Matthew could be rather oblivious at times. I wish for your company, she had wrote, and our trip nears its end each day.

The months had made Mary wonder if that was what Hell on Earth felt like. The days spent doing the same thing, being confined, feeling dirty and unholy. The worst part, she supposed, was that she knew she deserved every moment of it. She had broken his heart, she deserved a broken life.

/

"This is Luca and Aline," said Rosamund. Mary shook their hands as they all settled onto the couches. Mary had promised she would try harder to find a suitable couple to take the child.

Rosamumd lead the conversation again and Mary listened as the couple answered each question. They were around Mary's age and they had found that Aline could not bear children. They so desperately wanted a baby.

"Does it matter to you if it is a boy or a girl?"

"No. A baby is a blessing enough. We cannot choose to be so picky as to want a girl or a boy," said Aline.

Mary nodded and remained silent. The couple continued to talk and it seemed as though they were a fine middle class family. They were respectable, he had a stable career and she was one of the friendliest women Mary had ever met.

"If I give you this baby, I should like to name it. That is my only condition. I name the child and then you shall part with it and we shall never meet again."

"Does that mean you are saying yes?"

Rosamund turned to Mary with raised eyebrows. "Yes, that means soon enough you shall have this baby."

Aline began to cry and dabbed at her eyes. Mary began to cry as well as something broke inside her.

/

Mary sat alone in her bed as she pulled out the smuggled item. A baby name book. The idea of naming a human was rather daunting and Mary felt guidance would be nice. She also wanted to avoid names that might be used in the future. In her future when she could admit to the world that she was expecting.

The idea had struck her while she had been eating lunch. It would be painful, but she knew what the first name had to be. Something Irish. Mary had toyed with the idea of naming it Tom, if it were a boy. She did not want her aunt to become suspicious but she also was pretty sure her aunt did not know most of the servants at Downton. If it were a girl, that was what Mary had no idea about.

She searched through names before finding one that she liked above all the others. It was simple, but it was clearly Irish.

She whispered the name aloud and knew if he were here, he would say they would name the child that. But he was not there, and Mary had to make the decision for them.

Mary patted her stomach as she settled under the covers to go to sleep and whispered, "Your father loves you."

 _ **There it is. What do you guys think, baby brary boy or baby brary girl? I know you are hoping for some Mary and Tom in person but that is to come. Next chapter will be dramatic too! Lots of emotions that are building up are going to boil and spill over. I hope you are excited. Please review!**_

 _ **Also, the comments made by Rosamund I in no way condone or support. However, that was the thinking back then and by some today. I think adoption is a beautiful, wonderful thing. Without it, I wouldn't have the opportunity to be where I am or write like this or any of the things I'm able to easily do. So to reiterate what I said last time, this is not here to shame adoptions, but to express the thinking of the times.**_

 _ **Lastly, I've been watching Downton on my iPod (I'm American remember) but I'm freaking out because I want to believe so bad that brary will happen because I've just seen the cutest pictures on tumblr. I'm still hesitant though, but whatever, we'll always have fanfiction in case our dreams don't come true on the show.**_

 _ **Follow me on tumblr: mrsmarybranson**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Hey guys! I know you've had to wait two weeks for this update and I'm sorry about that. My schedule has been busy and I haven't been able to update as regularly as I'd like. I hope to finish this story in a few chapters though, so not too much longer of a wait! You guys are hopefully also being entertained by Downton every Sunday. I can't believe it's going to be wrapped up in four episodes… my brary heart is hopeful but I also just don't want to say goodbye to these characters. At least with the end we know it's open ended for all the possible fanfics. Who knows if I will start another chapter story after this one, let's focus on one at a time.**_

 _ **All of that being said, please stick with me in this story. There will be moments where you might want to pull away, but I assure you that the end of this story you won't see coming. It's been so fun writing this and I hope you will stay with me all the way through to find out what happens with Mary and Tom.**_

 _ **Thanks everyone and enjoy!**_

 _I would have gone into the jungle with you—forever._

 _-Tarzan of the Apes_

The pain was unbearable and Mary couldn't stop her repeated cries. It hurt, giving birth. She had not known what to expect and she had been whisked into the bed moments after she had started feeling contractions.

Her aunt sat in the corner looking a bit ill as she occasionally hovered around the nurse. The doctor repeated words of encouragement that Mary deemed unhelpful. She wanted the baby out more than him, but it was hard. In that moment she wished he was there with her. He could assure her that everything would be fine. He would have that calm presence that she needed. He'd whisper soothingly and then, then he would see the life that they had created.

Instead, with a final push the baby was out and Mary fell back against the pillows as the nurse came to soothe her. "You did a wonderful job, Mrs. Levinson."

Mary scoffed internally. She was not Mrs. Levinson, nor did she do a good job.

"Is the baby healthy?" asked Rosamund. Mary figured if the baby was unwell, the couple might not take the child.

"Perfectly well," replied the doctor as the baby's cries got quieter. His back was to Mary and she waited to see it. This baby had been the center of her misfortunes and the reason she had not seen her family in months. This baby was the reason she had just gone through excruciating pain and had said goodbye to Tom.

When the doctor placed the baby in her arms, her breathing stopped. Mary let out a shaky breath and traced her finger against its cheek. The baby had wisps of light brown hair stuck to its head. In that moment, she swore she knew what pure love was.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" she asked.

"A girl."

Her daughter. She had a daughter. The baby was small and Mary felt as if she were a child holding a porcelain doll that was breakable and needed the upmost care. She was broken out of her trance as Rosamund walked over to see the baby.

Rosamund nodded and said, "She's quite pretty. I'd expect nothing less. They will be quite taken with her that is for sure."

 _They will be quite taken with her that is for sure._

Mary stiffened and asked the maid who was also present, "Will you please take the baby?"

"I'll escort you downstairs, doctor," said Rosamund. "I do have a few questions."

Everyone filed out of the room and Mary broke down after the doors closed. Sobs escaped and she tried to muffle them with her pillow.

She felt awful inside and out. For once, she wanted to act as if everything were not alright. She wanted to acknowledge that she was so clearly not alright.

/

"What have you named her?" asked Rosamund. It was just her and Mary sitting comfortably, having tea.

"Maeve Josephine."

"Do you think that is appropriate?"

"I'm not sure what you are asking," said Mary, although she knew very well what.

"That name sounds Irish. Why do you not give her a good English name? As for the middle name, your parents christened you that and I do not know if it is yours to put onto another baby."

"Well, Aunt Rosamund it is _my_ baby and so I think I'm entitled to name her what I wish. That is her name and I do not plan to change it."

"You are being quite stubborn about this. My dear, don't forget you will not be the one calling her by this name."

"I know that. I do not need to be reminded of it constantly."

Mary brought the teacup to her lips to avoid the continuation of the conversation. She was still quite tired and found conversations about trivial things a waste of time. She sipped her tea in silence and wished she were anywhere but the house in Switzerland.

/

Mary was still breastfeeding Maeve, but Aline visited anyways. She waited in the parlor while Mary brought her down. Rosamund was not present and Mary found herself more relaxed around the other woman.

"Here she is," said Mary as they came into view.

Aline gasped and tears formed. "She is but the prettiest baby."

"Thank you," said Mary. She looked down at her daughter and smiled. She was a complete mix of herself and Tom.

"She is quite healthy thanks to you," said Aline.

"No I—"

"Yes, because of you. This is all because of you, Luca and me forever thank you."

"No, I should be thanking you. You will give Maeve a good life, I'm sure of it."

"We will, Madame, I swear to it. And she shall forever call her Maeve."

"That's wonderful. Her father would like that I think," said Mary. She bit her lip and turned away from the other woman. "So would you like more tea?"

/

Mary had often heard there comes a day where mother and daughter part. The daughter gets married and she is off in another world, her parents part of a memory. The day came sooner for Mary and she knew Maeve would not remember her. She would stare in the mirror on her tiptoes and wonder if she had the same dark eyes as her mother, and Mary would not be there as proof that they did. She would comb through her hair and wonder who's hair she had and no one could tell her that she had her father's fine brown locks.

Mary would not be a memory. Perhaps, one day when Maeve was older, she would become someone. One day her daughter mind understand. The day that Mary let go was the day Mary saved Maeve. It was the day Aline and Luca saved Maeve. Her daughter would never know the circumstances, she would never know her grandfather was a lord of an estate, that her mother detested one of her sisters, that her father was great with cars. But she would know Aline and Luca. They would be mother and father. Mary knew that she could never be Mama, but Aline could and she wanted her to be.

Mary stood with her daughter pressed to her chest. Her breathing was heavy and she was sniffing more than was proper. "Your Papa does not know you, but if he did I know he would adore you. I adore you. I will _always_ adore you and you shall always have a piece of my heart. I may never be Mama to you, but you will always be my daughter. I love you, darling."

Mary made the slow walk down the stairs after making sure there were no signs of her crying. She heard the chatter and she paused on the last step to look one last time at her child. Their child. "In another world, we would have been so terribly happy."

She made her entrance into the room and Luca jumped up and offered her a warm smile. Aline greeted her like an old friend. Rosamund smiled and said, "Here she is, the small thing, what a dear."

"Everything is ready. Everything has been worked out, correct?" asked Mary.

"Everything is finished. Now give them Maeve and they can be off and get situated with their new baby."

 _Now give them Maeve. Now give them Maeve._

"Yes, of course," said Mary. She brushed her finger against her baby's soft cheek one last time before she gently placed her in Aline's arms.

"Thank you, thank you," said Aline as tears again began to slide down her face.

Mary nodded but said nothing. Luca smiled as he patted his wife's shoulders and peered down at the baby. Rosamund led the way to the door with Mary trailing behind. Her eyes never left her baby, wrapped in the soft white blanket Mary had purchased. They paused at the doorway to say thank you once more before walking out, a new family formed.

"Well, that is all finished. Shall we have some tea and discuss the next things that need to happen?"

Mary shook her head. "Have tea without me. I'm going to be upstairs. You see, I'm never going to see her again and I would like to be alone right now."

Mary didn't look back as she rushed up the stairs.

/

"Matthew is meeting us midway through traveling back."

"Why on Earth would he do that?" asked Mary.

"He's been told you have quite a lot to say to him."

Mary dropped her fork. A mix of anger and frustration had built up and she willed herself not to snap. "He had to have been told this by you. I want to approach him my way. You're forcing us together just like last time. What am I supposed to say to him so soon?"

"Mary, you have had months to think of something to say. You have known this was going to happen. And you needn't act like he is an awful person, you yourself said you liked his company."

"I do not think Matthew is an awful person which is exactly why I detest this plan and the way you are going about it."

"My plan will get results, your plan of waiting will only lead to confusion and quite possibly him marrying another woman. You have got to listen to me on this, Mary."

"I just want some part of it to be normal."

"My dear, the only way your life could possibly be within an inch of normality is after you are married and you have a position and a respectable husband."

"Do you not think that is unfair?"

"You sound like Sybil. Fairness has nothing to do with life Mary, I thought you knew that by now."

/

Mary had not been sad about leaving Switzerland. It had been a long stay filled with frustration and heartbreak. She had received letters from Anna that said home had not changed much. Mary longed for the familiarity of Downton and was eager to put her feet on English soil.

The travel back was not nearly as bad physically. Mary ate regularly and her back did not hurt from sitting so long in stiff seats.

She didn't like thinking of the reasons why she was not aching or tired anymore because then she thought of Maeve and the pain of her leaving came back. Instead Mary busied herself with reading books or newspapers. Rosamund had packed several paintings—only the good ones—that they had finished to showcase they had learned how to be efficient artists.

Mary knew their relationship would never be the same, but they had reached some level of understanding and were back to talking about broad, safe topics. Fashion, food, Downton.

The travel continued and Mary found herself bored more than anything. She knew that the drama wouldn't leave her when she got back to Downton Abbey, perhaps it would ease down a bit though.

/

The train pulled in to the station and Mary prepared to get off to change trains. She would get to stretch her legs for a few minutes at least. They filed out of the train and Mary took a moment to breathe in the air.

And then she saw him. The tall figure with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was gazing around until suddenly his eyes met hers. "Matthew," she whispered.

 _ **So this was very emotional to write and I hope you enjoyed it. I almost started crying writing some of it. I didn't want to portray Aline and Luca as bad or Mary as bad. I want to stress neither of them are bad. As an adopted child, I can say I owe everything to my parents and so I wanted to convey that in this chapter with Maeve and I hope I did that. I skipped through the travel again because the important stuff is the last part of the travel so there was some time lapse there. Next chapter there will be drama but it won't be so heavy, I don't think.**_

 _ **Again sorry for the delay. Next time you can expect some Mary/Tom interaction.**_

 _ **I'm on tumblr: mrsmarybranson**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**I'll try to keep this brief so you can get on to reading; thank you for being patient with me and my infrequent updates. I have been so busy and y'all have been so understanding. Thank you. This story is filled with twists and turns, but I guarantee you will be surprised at the ending.**_

 _ **I'm also very upset with how Downton Abbey ended… it has inspired me to write more. But let me finish this story first! Enjoy!**_

 _But she needs me more than she needs him and I guess being needed is almost as good as being loved. Maybe better._

 _-A Tree Grows in Brooklyn_

It was clear from Matthew's stories and the bit of urgency in his tone that he had missed her. He had pulled Mary into his arms with a warm greeting and questions about Switzerland. It was as if all the time that they had been apart had disappeared.

"I've missed you. It seems no one else appreciates the same type of reading."

Mary laughed. She listened to him fill her in on details of her family and about Isobel's current work at the hospital. He included Rosamund in the conversation until her aunt drifted behind them. Matthew seemed unfazed as he continued his story about a particularly heated conversation between Isobel and Granny. "You really should have been there. I'm glad you're back now."

"I'm happy to be back. I've missed Downton so much," said Mary. She thought of her home and a new wave of happiness fell over her. "I've missed you."

Matthew smiled. However, it was not the same hopeful smile as when he had been pining over her. Mary felt worry as she wondered if Matthew had met someone. She stumbled a few steps. Another woman would ruin the entire deal she made with Rosamund.

"I'm glad you are getting used to all of us," said Mary with a smile.

"Of course! You are family after all. Speaking of that, I was told you had something to tell me."

"Yes, but not now. That is, I would rather tell you back at Downton."

"I understand. I'm sorry, you must be quite exhausted. The car should be there when we arrive."

Mary felt her heart skip a beat. She had forgotten the car would pick her up. She felt woozy as she thought of a particular man. She managed to ask, "Who is picking is up?"

"The chauffeur."

"Right, silly of me to ask. You know, Matthew I am a bit tired. Would you mind if I rested for a few moments?"

/

Her mouth was abnormally dry. Her palms were sweatier than ever. She stared at him as he helped her aunt in to the car. He hadn't changed and yet there was something about him that was different.

Mary stepped up and their eyes met. He was emotionless and Mary found that was worse than any anger or sadness. She looked away and quickly sat next to her aunt. The drive to Downton was quiet and excruciatingly painful. Mary had never felt so claustrophobic, squashed between her Aunt Rosamund and Matthew. She stared out the window and some relief came when the familiar house was in site.

"Welcome home, Mary," said Matthew.

They quickly got out and Mary found herself in the arms of her family. Cora was emotional and Sybil had rushed to give her older sister a hug. They peppered her with questions as they began to walk inside.

"Actually, I would like to walk around for a bit. I've been sitting quite a bit. I'll only be a moment, if that's alright."

"Oh of course, my darling. You must be tired," said Cora.

The family shifted their questions to Rosamund who wore the perfect face of exhaustion and innocence. She watched the door close behind them and felt her breathing become shaky. She waited a moment before turning towards him.

He was looking at anything but her. He began unstrapping the luggage and continued to stare straight ahead.

"Are you going to act as if I don't exist?"

His shoulders tensed but he continued to say nothing.

"We need to talk. Anna informed me of letters you wrote."

That seemed to get his attention because he turned and narrowed his eyes at her. "Too posh to answer them than?"

"Is that what you think?"

"Of course it's what I think. You've decided you're too good for me."

"That isn't it at all. I did what was best for both of us, you, you don't understand."

"Damn right I don't. You pulled me along like a ragdoll. I'm not a toy, Lady Mary. Did you think it would be entertaining to string me along? Knowing you would have parties and many gentlemen to go back to who would gladly marry you. But me? I don't have that luxury. I believed in you, in us. I put everything I had on the line for _you._ The worst part is I still want to punch someone's teeth out when they call you a cold hearted bitch."

He turned away and headed towards the garage. She wanted to explain the situation. She wanted to tell him how much she cared about him. He could never know about Maeve though. And so Mary remained silent and headed back inside, shoulders sagging.

/

Mary sipped her tea as she watched Matthew stare at one of her paintings. He cocked his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "It's quite good. I could never do anything like this."

"I'm glad my trip proved beneficial."

Matthew smiled. "It was. Were you never bored?"

Mary thought of Maeve. "Not once."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Have you been bored hear?"

"I didn't mean to insinuate that. No, I've been kept quite busy and I find the lifestyle appealing with each day. I can see why you hold Downton near to you heart."

"I'm not sure if now is the proper moment to do it, but I am going to. You've been told I needed to talk to you and I do. It's not a very light topic, however. You see, all I have ever dreamed of was a nice enough husband. Someone that when I ran into them once or twice a day, would be amiable. That was all I would allow myself to hope for because that is what Patrick was. We weren't close which I'm sure you have caught on to, or Edith has informed you. Then you came along and I dared not hope you were better than Patrick. It was an opportunity to escape my parents' wishes and do what I wanted. You weren't supposed to be wonderful. You _couldn't_ be, I told myself. And yet you have surprised me. I'm sorry, is this too much at once?"

Matthew gulped. "No, go on."

Mary nodded and intertwined her hands. "The thing is Matthew; you have made me surprise myself. I never thought love and Downton would be on the same plate for me. The first time you proposed; I rejected you. Out of fear, sadness, confusion, call it what you will. Being in Switzerland made me realize something though. It made me re-realize how I love you. Not as a brother or a fond friend, but as a person I want to be with."

She watched as he closed his eyes. She prayed that he felt the same as he had before. He was her lifeline and he didn't even know it.

He shook his head. "You said before that you saw me as a brother. What about everything with Tom Branson?"

Mary took a sip of tea, her hands shaking as the cup clashed against the plate. "That doesn't need to be spoken of, ever. Things didn't work out and I see how silly I was to have thought they would. It's in the past Matthew and I'd rather not talk about the past. How I feel about you now is exactly as I said; I see you in an entirely new light."

"Don't play with me, Mary. My feelings are the same. I won't impose them on you, however, if this is an act of guilt or pity. I want us to be genuine. Forever."

She gave him a half smile. "And we will be, if you ask properly."

His smile grew as he dropped to one knee. She smiled and held out her shaky hand.

/

Mary lay in bed that night. She was certain of two things: she would be Countess of Grantham one day and she had broken Tom's heart. Among the millions of uncertainties, one stood out. Had she broken Matthew's heart as well?

She let the sobs rack through her entire body as she thought over the questions. Surely, she would not be going to Heaven. She had lied too much and burned too many people to justify joining the land of the saints.

She was poison and poison did not belong with angels.

/

Her Papa was hugging her tighter than he had in her entire life. He had yet to let go and had pulled Cora into the hug as well. They stood there with their arms around Mary, the future Lady Grantham.

Her parents' excitement had been beyond what she was expecting. Tears had formed in Robert's eyes at the couple's news. They had finally gotten what they wanted. Mary was going to marry Matthew.

The parents and Violet were happy and began talking about the wedding immediately. Sybil was also overjoyed at her sister's news. Edith had sulked in the corner before offering her congratulations at Cora's insistence.

Mary had made sure that Rosamund was there for the news. Her aunt pulled her into her arms and whispered, "Our secret forever."

And just like that, Mary sealed her fate. She was going to live the life she had always prepared for. The life she was destined for, if not designed for. So why then, did it not feel good? Why did it feel so goddamn awful?

Mary was sure fiancées were not supposed to cry themselves to sleep. She couldn't stop herself though and so she did. She had to do this, for her daughter. Her daughter who would never know her, never have a fleeting thought about her. Mary began crying again and hoped no one could hear her breaking. After all, Mary Crawley did not break.

/

Anna relayed congratulations to her from the servants. Mary felt a pit in her stomach as she thought of Tom's reaction to the news. She wondered if he cared. She _hoped_ he cared.

"Was everyone terribly surprised?"

Anna's cheeks turned pink and she said, "Well, erm, yes."

"I take that as a no," said Mary with a chuckle.

"It wasn't meant in a negative way, milady. We all just knew how taken Mr. Crawley is with you."

Mary smiled. "I'm happy to hear you are all jovial about the news."

"Of course, milady."

"Was there anyone…" Mary drifted off.

Anna's movements stopped and she set the hairpins down. "Do you mean Tom Branson, milady?"

"I know I'm being silly, Anna."

"Of course not! If I am truthful, he was quite a bit shocked and too upset to eat much."

Mary's heart sank. "I was afraid you would say something like that."

"It's not that bad, Lady Mary. In time I'm sure he will be as happy as the rest of us."

"I know you say that, but I cannot see that happening. Anna, I've broke him and the worst part is I cannot even tell him why."

"Are you sure? Perhaps it would be closure for you, milady."

"You don't understand, no one does. I can't seem to stop breaking people, Anna. I-I'm so terribly tired of breaking people."

"Then don't, milady."

"You don't understand, Anna. I've said things that I can't take back. I've made promises that I cannot back out of. I've signed my life away so I better get used to it. I've just got to accept that and the sooner the better."

"Lady Mary…"

"Believe me when I say it will be fine. I will be fine. There is a part of me that is happy, Anna," she said. She thought of Maeve. "There is a part of me that is truly happy."

"And Mr. Crawley is happy. That is because of you."

"Yes, I need him, I really do. That is just as good as love, being needed. And he is very much needed."

/

 _ **That's it till next time! I'm not sure how I like the beginning or ending but I'm short on time so it will have to do. There will definitely be some Mary/Tom interaction next chapter and it's bound to get steamy.**_

 _ **Let me know what you think in the reviews! What do you think will happen next? Will Mary go through with the wedding?**_

 _ **I'm on tumblr: mrsmarybranson**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Hello everyone! I'm on break so I thought I'd take this opportunity to update earlier. Thank you for continuing on this journey with me. This story has been so enjoyable to write and to think about. I hope it will continue to surprise you. I love Brary and I'm so glad there are more stories being written. As of now I cannot say how many more chapters this story will have, but not too many more. At least, I don't think. I had an idea of what I was doing but now I'm second guessing a few details. Oh well, don't worry because I will see this fic all the way through! Let me know what you think in the reviews and enjoy!**_

" _Love is fragile—she was thinking—but perhaps the pieces are saved, the things that hovered on lips, that might have been said. The new love-words, the tenderness learned, and treasured up for the next lover."_

 _-May Day_

Since the announcement, Cora Crawley had not stopped busying herself with tasks and talking to every aristocratic woman in town. Mary had sat through it all as her mother proudly announced her eldest daughter was marrying the future Earl of Grantham. It had almost been too much, watching Cora show more excitement than she _ever_ had before. As if that weren't enough, her papa was over the moon with joy also.

The wedding had become the only subject talked about during family gatherings. Edith had taken to sticking her nose in a mundane book and avoiding talking all together because Mary was "the vilest woman to ever walk". Only Sybil showed Mary the right amount of excitement. Mary had been worried that her sister would remember their conversation from a while back about Tom, but she had not mentioned it. Usually Sybil would not let such matters go and Mary wondered if her sister would say anything. She prayed not because although Sybil was caring, it would only cause trouble.

Mary was brought back to the reality of her situation as Granny once again tried to take control of the wedding.

"My dear, Cora, you really should not do this alone."

Cora huffed and replied, "I assure you it is no trouble, Mama."

Mary sighed, "It is my wedding. I will be there to help."

"Are you sure you would not wish for the rest of us to grovel at your feet and do all the tasks?" asked Edith.

Mary shot a look at her younger sister. Edith had been unbearable the last week and it was clear she had no intentions of stopping. She turned her body away in an attempt to shut her sister out.

"If there is anything you need Matthew or I to do, we would be happy to."

Cora waved her hand in dismissal as she began to describe the flowers she thought would be perfect for the ceremony.

Mary thought it funny that despite her trying to cast Edith as an outsider, it seemed she was the one on the other side. Mary sighed, actually, it wasn't funny at all.

/

Mary had managed solidarity for a while and tried to sort her thoughts out. She had felt guilty for wooing Matthew into marrying her and casting Tom aside. She had been forced to celebrate afterwards when all she wanted to do was escape. Mary had kept her end of the deal with her aunt, but at a horrible price. Then she was reminded of Maeve and Mary willed herself to remain strong. Anything was worth her daughter's wellbeing.

The first few days had consumed her with guilt, sadness, and anger. Mary knew she could not get rid of it. She realized she had to try and feel nothing again. She had to go back to the days when she would flirt with men before never giving them a second glance. Those days had been easy for her to enjoy and even easier for her to forget about.

However, that was no longer who she was. That Mary Crawley was gone. She had tried desperately to find her old self but to no avail. That Mary knew nothing of love and heartbreak. That Mary knew nothing of life changing decisions and of birth. The one thing that Mary did know was that she had been made to fill a slot. The future Countess of Grantham. She was always going to be that. She was going to marry Patrick, have a son, and wither away. Why then was it so hard for her to bring back that mentality?

Deep down she knew why. It was because of him. It was always because of Tom Branson. He had simultaneously given her everything and taken all she had known and thrown it away.

 _His lips trailed along her neck and back up across her jaw. Her breathing was ragged and she didn't dare to speak in fear that her voice would betray how she was feeling. She watched as he pulled away to look at her. His large hands still rested on her waist, burning through her layers of clothing. "You amaze me," he whispered. Mary let out a small laugh. The moment was gone, but the level of comfort remained._

Mary wiped away tears she just began to notice. She could not allow herself to revisit the past. Even so, she could not deny that she had been happy and carefree which is what she liked. Perhaps, she could be that with Matthew?

She should start trying, she told herself. Mary understood love and perhaps she could put that onto Matthew and they could be happy. The thought managed to raise her spirit enough to rejoin her family. She could be happy, should she choose to be.

/

Matthew recounted a story during dinner that involved him and a friend. He was animated as he told it and his face exuded cheerfulness. He was a good man, Matthew Crawley.

She took a sip of wine and allowed herself to chuckle along with the rest of the family. The wine tasted bitter and Mary took another sip as she tried to make it sweet. Laughter filled the room as she finished off the glass. Her eyes met Matthew's and she offered a smile. Bitter things tasted good after a while.

/

"My mother tells me she ran into Cousin Cora who looked quite determined in the village. I hope your mother is not bearing too much of the weight."

Mary turned to Matthew with a raised eyebrow. "She refuses to hand the reigns over to anyone, including myself, the _bride_. She wants to pull off a society wedding and then receive the credit for doing so."

Matthew's eyebrows drew together. "I was under the impression this would not be too huge an affair. That is to say, I want this day to be about us."

"It will be. You cannot expect any less though. The guest number rises and Mama gets happier. We will just have to brave the storm, I suppose."

"In any case I will be far too happy to let anything bother me," replied Matthew.

Mary lowered her eyes. The feeling of guilt passed through her and her smile faltered. She sucked in a breath and smiled widely. "Yes indeed." The very least she could do for him was make the day wonderful. She wouldn't sour it with her self-pity.

/

The brush slid repeatedly through Mary's long locks. She wondered why Anna was being so quiet.

"Is something the matter, Anna?"

"No, Milady," she replied. However, she would not look Mary in the eyes. Mary shook her head; Anna was not a good liar.

"Tell me the truth, Anna. Is something wrong? Do you need help?"

"It doesn't have to do with me, Lady Mary… at least, not exactly."

"Enough riddles, Anna, please tell me. You can trust me."

"It's Tom Branson!" the blonde woman blurted. "I found him crying. He was so upset and filled with frustration. I think you should talk with him, Milady."

Mary went rigid as she faced Anna fully, her hair forgotten. "Are you saying he was upset over me?"

"Yes," Anna nodded.

Mary shook her head. "He must have been upset over something different or someone else. I could not have done anything to cause him such distress."

"But you have, Lady Mary!" cried Anna. "He had such strong feelings for you and now you are marrying Mr. Crawley and he has watched it all. Don't deny your feelings because I know how you talked about him and how he felt. He is a broken man!"

Mary had never seen Anna so emotional and it shocked her. Anna had never spoken so bluntly to her about another person. Mary knew Anna was upset, but she could not reverse time.

"Anna, there is nothing I can do now."

"You could speak with him, Milady. Resolve things."

"I'll try," said Mary with a hopeless shrug. She had to keep Anna's friendship. She had to. Anna was one of the few who knew almost everything and she needed to be able to confide in someone outsider her family. "But you must understand things with Mr. Crawley and I will not change. We're serious. And I'm trying to show him that."

"Just speak with Tom Branson, Milady, please. I just care about you."

"I know that, Anna. I know."

/

Mary looked at herself in the mirror as they put the fourth veil on her. The clothes were one of the things her mother and herself were bound to agree on. She straightened as they smoothed the veil.

"It's exquisite, is it not?"

"I think you look beautiful, Mary," said Sybil. Mary smiled at her youngest sister. She turned and raised an eyebrow at Edith who said nothing.

"I think it's wonderful," agreed Cora.

"I do love how long it is," said Mary as she ran her fingers appreciatively over the material. "I think this one will do nicely. We'll buy it!"

Cora leaped up to begin buzzing around the room as she looked at dresses and talked again about flowers. Edith rose quickly and bolted from the room. Sybil smiled again at her sister as she followed Cora who had yet to stop talking.

After everything was settled they decided to have a bite to eat. They headed to the car and Mary got nervous until she remembered Tom apparently was not feeling well enough to drive. He was avoiding her and it stung.

Cora began chatting again as she squeezed Mary's hand. "I was glad you picked that veil, it was my favorite. I was glad you agreed tried on all of them. We will have to sort out the dress and alterations and flowers now. It's quite a lot but I was glad to do it because you are getting married to Matthew. Finally."

"She does not deserve it," mumbled Edith.

On the contrary dear Edith, Mary thought, she was finally getting what she deserved.

/

It was another day where her mother was planning for the wedding and insisted she did not need Mary. Her sisters were nowhere to be seen. Her father was meeting with Lord Merton about something and Matthew was working.

In other words, it was the perfect opportunity. She was going to track down Tom Branson.

She had thought about going downstairs but decided it was too risky. She walked along the halls and outside. She finally decided to wait in the garage. No one needed the car today so where was he?

She waited impatiently and picked through the bazar items kept in the garage. She was squinting at a particularly rusty, dirty tool when the door opened. Mary jumped up and turned towards the door. He looked tired but otherwise intact. He looked at her with distrust and maybe even disgust.

Her strength was weakening, but she couldn't rush out. She always ran from things and that seemed to do her no good. She stood straighter and looked him in the eyes. "Tom."

 _ **Okay well I guess you'll just have to wait till next chapter! I feel like this is the first good cliffhanger I've had in a while so I had to do it. Next time you'll see just what happens when she has her first serious conversation with Tom since the engagement announcement. Will he say anything to change her mind? Will he even listen to her? Tell me what you think in the reviews! You guys give awesome encouragement and I love the feedback and guesses.**_

 _ **Also real quick I would like to say how perfect that quote was. It was so hard to pick because F. Scott Fitzgerald has written so many amazing things and he has great quotes. But I picked it and you can find all the quotes on my tumblr blog under "quote worthy".**_

 _ **By the way, I have a tumblr: mrsmarybranson**_

 _ **Thanks, check out my tumblr, my other fics, good books to read. And I hope you all have a terrific Thanksgiving!**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Thank you everyone for your continuous reviews of this story! You make my day when I read all the comments guessing what is going to happen next. I hope you continue to stick with this story. As for a time table I cannot yet say. I thought it would only be a few more chapters, and that's what it will probably be… but I won't know for sure. I had an ending planned out, but now I'm debating between two. Either way I think you'll like it. Enjoy!**_

 _I was glad when they said unto me, we will go into the house of the Lord. Our feet shall stand in thy gates, O Jerusalem/ Jerusalem is builded as a city that is at unity in itself./ O pray for the peace of Jerusalem, they shall prosper that love thee./ Peace be within thy walls, and plenteousness within thy palaces, and plenteousness within thy palaces!_

 _-Based on Psalm 122_

He didn't move towards her like he used to. He regarded her quietly. His blue eyes bore into hers.

"Tom," she repeated. "I need to speak with you."

He still didn't reply and moved to rearrange some tools that had been left out.

"Please speak to me."

No reply.

"Dammit Tom, speak to me!"

He turned to face her this time, his eyes narrowed. "I have nothing to say to the likes of you."

Mary's lip quivered as her façade fell for a second. "How can you say that? I've been gone and Anna's been telling me that you are not well."

"You can just go back to the big house because I have nothing to say to you. I'm fine. I'd be better if you left."

"Tom, _please_."

He shook his head. "I'd ask you why you did this, but I know. It was all for your amusement, wasn't it? You thought it would be hilarious to get a poor Irishman to fall in love with you. Then, then you would break his heart. You're nothing but a heartless, cruel, deceitful, _coward_. You cannot face up to your own feelings so you ruin other's lives. I've never met a woman as awful as you. It doesn't matter you've got a pretty face because you haven't got a heart. Why does it surprise me though? You're one of them. You have always been one of them, _Lady_ Mary Crawley. You have always been one of them."

Tears were falling down her face too quickly for her to wipe them away. It didn't matter, he had seen her like this before. She felt more broken, if it were possible. "You know that isn't true. You know how I've changed. You know that I care a great deal about many things, including you. How can you say those words? I have given you more of my heart than I have ever _dared_ to give anyone else. That includes my own family! You cannot call me those things because they are far from the truth and you know it."

He shook his head, the anger still evident. He had forgotten the scattered tools as he got closer to her. His nose flared, his eyes focused solely on her. "I don't know you at all."

"Why do you say that? You have been more intimate with me than anyone has been. You know me, mind and body. I have told you things I had never said aloud before. I listened to you, to your dreams. I know what Ireland means to you, what equality means to you. I understand how big your heart is, how smart you are. You have given me more than any other person alive. Does that mean nothing?"

"It doesn't mean a damn thing since you're marrying Matthew Crawley."

Mary turned silent. She could never tell him the truth, no matter how much she wanted to. Her lips pursed and she glanced away.

"That's what I thought. You should go back because you would not want them seeing you talking to the chauffeur scum."

"Don't say that," she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Would you believe me if I said I truly loved you?"

She heard his cold laugh. "No. Not a damn bit."

Mary fled the garage without another word. She wasn't sure how she expected the conversation to go. He detested her. He didn't believe she loved him. She was _in love_ with him. That was the reason she was marrying Matthew. She loved Tom and she loved the being they had created together. Tom's daughter. Her daughter. Maeve was going to have a good life because of her. Maeve wasn't going to pay for Mary's sins. Mary was.

/

Several more weeks had passed until Cora thought it was appropriate to begin a countdown to the wedding. A countdown to her hosting one of society's greatest weddings.

It was seven days until the wedding. One week.

No one asked Mary if she was getting cold feet. No one wanted to know the answer.

The house was bursting with noise and excitement and Mary found that even she could begin to feel slightly happier about everything going on. Matthew was in high spirits as well and she found with him by her side things were more bearable.

Seven days until the wedding. Cora was fussing over all the final details. Isobel was distraught between focusing on the hospital and its growing needs and her only child about to be married. And Violet sat, amused at it all. "This was my doing," she would say to anyone who commented.

Mary shook her head. It certainly wasn't. The person who's doing it was had not arrived yet. Rosamund was not due for several more days.

/

Five days until the wedding.

The downstairs staff were excited and Mary found comfort in Carson's approval. He had called her and Matthew a "good match". If Carson thought they were, perhaps they were. No, Mary knew they were. Matthew calmed her amid the chaos. He was much needed as her mother continued to buzz around the town.

They sat in the parlor after dinner and small talk ensued. Mary moved towards Matthew when someone grabbed her arm.  
"Sybil, darling!"

"Would you be able to talk later?"

"We can now," said Mary with a smile.

"I'd prefer later in private."

The smile went stiff. "If that is what you would like."

Sybil nodded and went to join Isobel and Edith. Mary nervously fiddled with her dress. She hoped it was not about Tom.

She pushed the thoughts aside as she sat down on the couch next to Matthew. "How are you?"

"Happy. Terribly happy," he replied. "And you?"

"Exhausted. However, it is nice to know Mama has worked out all the details. It's hard to believe the wedding is only five days away."

"Five days seems like nothing when we will have the rest of our lives to be with each other. To be here, at Downton."

Mary offered a small smile. "That does sound pleasant. You and I… and no Edith!"

Matthew laughed. "Do try to be kind to her. I've seen the person you truly are. And Mary, you are one of the best people I have ever known."

Her smile was larger and more genuine as she said, "You have no idea how much those words mean to me."

Mary felt calmer the rest of the night and she had retired to bed when she heard the knock. Sybil came in and Mary smiled at her youngest sister.  
"What did you want to discuss, Sybil?"

"Tom Branson," she answered bluntly.

Mary shook her head. "There's nothing to discuss."

"Of course there is! You told me a while ago of your feelings for him? How could things have changed so dramatically? And now you are going to marry Cousin Matthew in only a few short days."

"Sybil—"

"Have you broken his heart?"

Mary stopped. Her arms dropped to her sides as she shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "You would not understand."

"I know you love Downton, Mary. But I thought love meant more to you."

"Did you really? Everyone seems to think I am incapable of feeling anything. Well, I'll have you know I can feel a great deal of emotions. I love Matthew Crawley and that is that."

"You know I think you have a heart, that you love. I saw it when you were talking about Tom."

"It does not matter. Everything I said about Branson no longer matters. I wish you wouldn't speak to me about him anymore. It was silly of me to ever want anything other than Matthew. He is a good man and one day he will be earl. I shall be happier than I ever could have been with anyone else."

"I do not disagree with you about Cousin Matthew. But I know what I saw in your eyes and it was love."

"Sybil, please. I _have_ to do this. You may not understand, but either way it is happening. You must believe that I am doing what is best for everyone."

"Mary—"

"Like you said, I can love a great deal of things."

/

Two days until the wedding.

It was morning and Anna was helping Mary dress. She was being unusually quiet as she flattened the dress and brushed off a piece of lint.

"What is the matter Anna?"

Anna shook her head. She continued her work until Mary stepped away. "I know something is wrong. Tell me."

"Did you talk with Tom Branson, Milady?"

"Is that what is bothering you?" Mary asked.

"I know you said you had. It's just that I worry about him. He seems far from his old self."

"I did talk to him and do you know what he told me? He was fine. I cannot press him for details, Anna, nor do I wish to. There are busy days ahead of us, Anna. Branson refuses to listen to anything I have to say, so I can do nothing for him. In any case, he has been quite rude."

"Rude?"

"He said all sorts of things that I will not repeat."

"Are you alright, Lady Mary?"

Mary felt her resolve crumble. She shook her head and glanced in the mirror, meeting Anna's eyes. "I don't think he will ever look at me again without disgust in his eyes."

"Why?"

Mary shook her head. She had always confided in Anna, but not this time. She steadied herself and pinched her cheeks in the mirror. She was fine. She was Lady Mary Crawley. She was fine because she was Lady Mary Crawley about to marry the future Earl of Grantham.

/

She stood in her room, tall and proud. The veil was placed over her like a protective shield. She smoothed down her dress for the hundredth time as her mother continued to praise her.

Anna brushed the dress down and made sure there was no crinkling with the veil. It was almost time.

Sybil and Edith entered the room next and were in awe of their sister's beauty. Mary truly looked like the future Countess of Grantham. Sybil rushed to her side and smiled. "You look exquisite, Mary."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Any girl would wish to be in your position," commented Edith. It was as close to a compliment as Mary would ever receive. None the less, she rolled her eyes at her younger sister's remark.

"This will be the two of you soon enough," said Cora with a wide smile. She seemed to be in bliss as she stroked Sybil's hair affectionately.

Sybil let out a laugh and replied, "I do not know about _that_ , Mama."

The laughter and chatter continued until Mary asked, "When do I go down?"

"Oh my darling, I am glad you are so excited. We shall go down and let Anna finish the last bits. Then, when you're ready your Papa will be waiting at the bottom of the staircase. Girls, say goodbye for now."

Edith walked over to her elder sister and murmured, "At least you make Cousin Matthew happy." Then, after an awkward hug, she scurried out of the room.

Sybil smiled and embraced Mary. "Darling, I am so glad you have found your happiness. It did not mean anything to me where or with _whom_ you found your happiness. However, it seems a fairytale ending that you should marry Cousin Matthew. And as Edith said, you make him terribly happy. You make me terribly happy and I am glad you have chosen what you wanted. I love you."

"Oh, Sybil," Mary mumbled as she hugged her youngest sister tighter. They stood there for a moment before slowly pulling away. Things would never be the same for them. They would never be the sisters in the big house running around the house or hiding in the drawing room; the sisters who sat next to each other one French lesson after another. They would not be several rooms down where they could go to each other in case of nightmares. In this moment they were growing up and forever saying goodbye to their childhood. Because one of them was going to be a wife. And that, that changed everything.

Sybil let go of her sister's hand and smiled. Mary swore there was a hint of sadness in her eyes and not just because Mary was, in a way, leaving. She brushed it off though as she sent her younger sister out of the room.

/

The rest of the wedding party was in the car, but the carriage was waiting for her. She saw Mrs. Hughes giving directions and quickly Mary said she needed a moment alone.

Everyone was preoccupied with getting the party and the family into the cars that no one noticed Lady Mary Crawley dash into the garage.

She pulled the door shut with a slam before turning around. She grimaced. "Hello, Tom."

He was speechless as he took in her appearance. He finally focused on her face and frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to talk to you before the ceremony. I needed to clear some things up because you were so furious with me before."

"And you think saying sorry again will make me fall to my knees for you? You're wrong."

"I don't think that nor do I expect it. But I had to make something perfectly clear. It seems I hurt you more by the fact you believed I never cared about you. You see, that is not the truth. I know I have said many things to you, but none more true than I love you. I love you, Tom Branson. Everything about you intrigues me because you represent a world I am so unfamiliar with. And yet, yet you understand me perfectly. I have let my guard down with you like I have with no one else. I have never loved a man like how I have loved you," she said. She flattened her dress again before continuing. "You gave me so much during our time together. Tom, you helped me find myself. And while I haven't completely found my true self, I am far further than if I had never talked to you. There are things you do not know that I have, in a way, done for us. It was for the best and I cannot regret it. But I made certain promises that I must uphold and that is why I am marrying Matthew. He is a good and wonderful man. It is the life I was designed for, but never mind that. I just hope you will believe me when I say that every emotion I expressed, every kind thing I said to you—I meant."

He was expressionless before he moved closer to her. His eyes drank in her appearance, her porcelain skin against the white lace. He shook his head and asked, "Why would you tell me this on the day of your wedding?"

"You needed to know and up until now I could not get a moment alone."

He was stressed and confused and Mary wondered if she had made matters worse. He ran a hand through his hair. "What promises have you made?"

"I cannot say," she answered immediately.

His eyes narrowed. "It doesn't have anything to do with Mr. Crawley does it?"

"No! Matthew would not force me into anything. This promise does more good than bad, I promise."

He met her gaze, tears filled his eyes. "No matter what you say to me, I could not stop loving you. I wanted to be with you, to run away where we could start fresh. Is this the part where you tell me I was a fool? Where you say you are flattered, but you don't mean it?"

Mary shook her head. "No, this is the part where I tell you that I love you. If this were another life, I would go with you. I would go _with_ you."

Tom's tears were running down his jaw and he didn't bother to wipe them away. She stared at him another moment before pulling her veil over her head. She leaned in, eyes focused on his soft lips.

He put his hands on her shoulders, halting her. "No, Mary. If you insist on getting married today, one thing should be right. A bride should kiss no one other than her husband on her wedding day."

Her lips trembled as he slowly pulled the veil back over her face. He made sure it looked as if it had been untouched, before meeting her eyes again. A small, sad smile graced his face. "You look beautiful. The perfect bride."

"Tom—"

"Don't say it. I know. Despite all that I don't know, the secrets you're hiding, I know how _I_ feel. I know how I will continue to feel. Let's leave it at that."

/

She stood nervously, holding her father's arm when the chord started. She raised her eyebrows. "Papa, are we allowed to use this music?"

He helplessly shrugged. "Your Mama organized the entire thing. She may be unaware of what proper music to use. Be grateful there is nothing American."

Mary let out a small laugh as they began to walk. She clutched her father's hand like a lifeline as she walked towards her future.

Her smile grew when she saw that Matthew had eyes for her and nothing else. He looked dashing in his suit. She reached him and he smiled. "I was almost afraid you would not come."

"Good," she said. "I should hate to be predictable."

He chuckled as they turned to face the minister. She resisted from again flattening her dress and she offered a small smile. All would be fine, it had to be.

Mary knew her grandmother was watching proudly, a match made in heaven according to her. She knew her sisters were watching, a happy Sybil and grouchy Edith. She knew her mother was watching with a smile that had yet to disappear. She also knew her aunt was watching, a sign that Mary fulfilled her promise. Because this union meant Mary was saved from her family discovering her secret. It also meant Maeve would live a happy life without harm. A few tears threatened to spill and Matthew squeezed her hand.

Mary took another deep breath as the ceremony began.

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered together here in the sign of God – and in the face of this company – to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men; and therefore – is _not_ by any – to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly – but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly. Into this holy estate these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or _forever_ hold their peace."

Mary Crawley did not know what to think with the silence afterwards. Of course her family would not object. It was a good thing no one dared to question their union, wasn't it? The only thing Mary knew was that in that moment her heart plummeted, smashed to the ground like glass.

 _ **Wow that was my longest chapter! 3k plus words for a chapter has to be a new record for me. Okay, so I know this looks like Brary is going nowhere. That is not the case! This is the part where I beg you to continue you reading because I guarantee the ending will leave you stunned, but happy! At least… I hope it will. I know the wedding is upsetting to some, but I promise there is a lot of Brary to come. And she's still going to be in close proximity to Tom… so**_ **things** _ **could happen. I won't say what, only that you should not give up on Brary! IT WILL BE WORTH IT IN THE END!**_

 _ **Also, the quote from the top is from Psalm 122. It is also based on the song "I Was Glad' by Parry. For those of you unfamiliar with that, it was performed at the wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge in 2011 (Will and Kate). It was the song she walked down the aisle to in case you want to hear the song. It was the plan all along for Mary to walk down the aisle to it, she is royalty in the Downton world anyways. However, after more research I'm not sure if that song is only used for the monarchy or not? So I added Mary questioning the music just in case, because I really, really don't know.**_

 _ **Again, please stick with me on this story guys. I know it took a big turn, but there is a lot to come! A lot of Brary interactions that may take the story through another twist. Let me know what you think is going to happen! Affair? 'Accidental' death? Tom gets over Mary? What?**_

 _ **I'm on tumblr: mrsmarybranson**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Hello everyone! Thank you so much for getting me 75+ reviews! I am beyond happy that this story has become important for many of you. We're closing in on the final chapters and it's been quite a ride. I cannot say for sure how many chapters to go; I still have some details to work out! Also, I would like to say a thank you for sticking with me and all the positive reviews I got from last chapter. So, without further rambling, enjoy!**_

 _I like people and I like them to like me, but I wear my heart where God put it, on the inside._

 _-The Love of the Last Tycoon_

Mary slipped the robe over her slender arms and attempted to pat her slightly frizzy hair down. She glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping figure. His hair was out of place also and his chest was bare. Her cheeks warmed and she glanced away. He had been so kind and wonderful about it all. He was willing to just go to sleep because of her hesitance. But of course, she couldn't allow that. She had to move on and so, with Matthew, she did.

She ran her fingers through her hair once more as she rang the bell for Anna. She smiled slightly. She was a married woman. A whole new step separating her from others, from others like Edith. Her smile only grew.

"What are you smiling about?"

She turned around and was met by familiar blue eyes. She shrugged as she slowly climbed back in the bed. "I was just thinking how much my life has changed."

"Yes, it is quite a difference. A good change. I hope you agree."

"Of course," Mary replied. She said nothing more as Anna came in with a food tray. Matthew jumped and quickly pulled the bed covers closer. Mary rolled her eyes as Anna began to prepare for the day.

"Anna! I had no idea you would be in here this early," said Matthew.

"Oh yes, Mr. Crawley. I will bring Lady Mary's breakfast now in addition to tidying the room and assisting with dresses."

"Breakfast?" asked Matthew.

"Yes," replied Mary. "Haven't you ever wondered why Mama does not come down? It is because she is married and can have breakfast upstairs."

Matthew looked as if he wanted to say more, but didn't. He returned his focus to Anna and politely asked, "Would you mind stepping out for a moment, Anna?"

"Of course, Mr. Crawley."

When the door closed, Matthew got up. Mary eyed his toned back as he picked up his discarded blue nightshirt. He quickly pulled it on before facing her again. "I shall try to keep myself busy."

Mary smiled. "Perhaps check that everything of yours is packed before we set off?"

"Of course. It will be a wonderful trip." He moved closer and pressed a kiss to her lips. He smiled again before leaving.

"Anna," Mary called. "You may come back in now."

She began to chew her food as she thought nervously about their honeymoon trip.

/

It had been a nice six weeks spent in France, but now they were headed back. Mary had become more comfortable with Matthew during their honeymoon. She was reminded that he was a real gentleman with no ill intensions. He was her husband. The word was still foreign on her tongue. She found that if she pictured a husband, he was slightly shorter with brown hair, and that wouldn't do.

Matthew had bought a new car during the journey back. Mary had been skeptical at first, but then realized if they had a car she could avoid Tom.

She had thought the avoidance game would be over, but it wasn't. A part of her was embarrassed that she had been rejected. She had wanted one last kiss and he's said no. He had been firm that he had no intentions of ever kissing her again. He would never see her as attractive again. He would move on and the thought sickened her.

"Are you alright, Mary? You seem like something is troubling you," said Matthew.

"Oh, it's nothing. I will miss France, that is all. Of course, I'm eager to return home. I miss Downton."

"Well," said Matthew. "You will be glad to know that I miss Downton quite a bit also."

He squeezed her hand as they sped closer and closer to Downton. And, she thought, closer to Tom.

/

It almost seemed as though they had never left. Almost as if they were not even married in the daytime. Her father would drag Matthew off to talk business. She would spend time with Cora and her sisters. Evenings she would be on Matthew's arm and in bed next to him. They would engage in marital activities, of course.

But she had gone to the doctor. Nothing yet. Nothing.

/

They sat in the library together, chatting and reading. She found the lifestyle familiar and comfortable, which she expected.

He sat gazing around before he said, "I see Sybil and Tom Branson talk frequently."

"What?" Mary asked as she dropped her book.

"They seem like good friends. Would you be opposed to her spending time with him? It does not seem like anything other than friendship, though. I only ask because—"

"I know why you ask. I think it would be better if she spent time with different young men."

"Like The _Honorable_ Larry Grey?" asked Matthew.

Mary chuckled softly. Matthew had come in acquaintance with Larry several times and quickly realized he was no honorable man. "No, but someone else."

"Do you still care for him?"

Mary stilled for a moment. "No. I promise you Matthew that the only man on my mind is you."

Lies, lies, _lies_.

"I wouldn't be upset if you were. I just want us to both be happy and if that is not together—"

"I do not wish to take back anything. I hope you are not having regrets, Matthew."

"I'm not. I'm terribly eager for us to live our lives together and start a family."

At the mention of family, Mary's lips pressed shut.

/

They had needed the car to go to London. Matthew had always been friendly to Tom and didn't stop now. Mary wondered what it was like for her husband to greet a man who had slept with his wife before him. It couldn't have been the best feeling. Still, he spoke cheerfully as he climbed into the car. When Mary had been getting in, her hand brushed against Tom's. She looked up at him briefly and was met with sad, angry eyes. She had not dared to look at him again.

/

"Lady Mary you are pregnant."

Her breath hitched in her throat. Her hands went to her stomach which was still flat. "You're positive?"

"Yes. Congratulations."

She slumped back against the chair in disbelief. She didn't know what to do other than to smile and thank the doctor. Her family would be excited. The countdown would begin and they would pray for a boy.

This was what was supposed to happen. She ignored the slight sadness that crept in and focused on scheduling another appointment. She was going to be a mother.

Everyone was so much happier than when she had found out about her first pregnancy. Things changed though, when you're an aristocrat in line to be countess.

/

She wore a loose blue dress. She waddled. She had aches. She was clearly pregnant. This was the next stage she entered and it was, in a way, foreign. With this pregnancy, people fawned over her. She was not secluded from everything she had ever known.

Her mother doted on her the most and constantly made sure she was comfortable. Mary almost found it a bit tiresome. She spent much of the time sitting with a book or talking. Everyone wondered who the baby would look like. What names were they thinking about? No one discussed the possibility of the baby not being a boy.

It was one of those days where Mary could not take it and she decided to head outside. She walked around the house at the slowest pace she had ever gone. She held her book in one hand. Perhaps she should stop for a while. Her back was aching.

Suddenly, the book dropped. Mary cursed silently and looked around. It would be impossible for her to bend and pick the book up. She could no longer see her toes, let alone bend her entire upper body. She kicked at the book in an attempt to get it up.

Mary was about to kick the book upwards again when a hand reached out and grabbed the book. Surprised, her head snapped up and met the familiar face of Tom Branson. "Tom!"

"Here's your book," he said as he pushed it into her open hands. She grasped the book tightly, her knuckles turning white.

He turned to walk off and she tugged at his arm. "Wait! Let's talk."

"I don't think there is anything to be said."

"You always say that. You must know that isn't true," Mary replied.

"Well what do you want to hear me say? Confess my feelings to you once again? I've learned that that gets no reaction. I have nothing more to say because I've said it all."

"But I haven't said everything that I've needed to."

"What else is there to say? You married the man and you're going to have his baby. Congratulations, it's what you have always wanted, isn't it?"

"You aren't being fair," she huffed.

"I hope you are not suggesting that you are a fair person."

"Tom, please."

"Please just leave me alone. When I look at you, I wish that were my baby inside you. Not his," he whispered. He shook his head as he headed back to the garage.

/

It had happened fast. She had started feeling contractions before they were supposed to go in for dinner. They had not known whether to take her to Clarkson or Clarkson come to her.

In the end she stayed at Downton. She _always_ stayed at Downton.

The pain was just as she remembered. They told her soothing things, trying to calm her and assure her the pain would subside. Mary knew. She knew the process, but accepted their praise and comfort all the same. Isobel was assisting Dr. Clarkson and Cora and Sybil were also in the room.

Cries continued to slip out as she clutched her mother's hand. It was nice, having Cora there.

"One more push should do it, Lady Mary!"

She frowned as she gave a final push before collapsing back into the sheets. Her mother patted her head before joining the doctor as he inspected the baby. He brought the baby closer. "Congratulations, Lady Mary. You have a girl."

"Good job, darling," said Cora.

"Yes, what a perfectly beautiful baby," Sybil added.

The baby was placed in her arms. It was déjà vu and her grip wobbled as she held the baby. It already had dark brown hair and when her eyes opened, they were blue like Matthew's. She found relief that the baby did not look like Maeve. But of course it would not.

"I'll go fetch Matthew," said Isobel quietly.

They left the room as Matthew joined her. He was in awe as he brushed his finger down the baby's head and arm.

"It's not a boy," muttered Mary.

Matthew sighed. "Well, it's not the end of the world. I'm certainly happy anyways. Are you?"

"I'll learn to love her," said Mary.

"What shall we call her?"

"Eugenia. Eugenia Rosamund Crawley."

"After your aunt?"

Mary nodded. She felt mixed emotions of love, disappointment, and anger. It also described her feelings towards her aunt and everything that happened. "Yes, I think it fits."

"Won't your mother be upset? Or Cousin Violet?"

Mary shrugged. She tentatively stroked the baby's forehead. It had her hair. It was a Crawley, she reminded herself. There was nothing better than a Crawley.

/

Eugenia had become popular among the family immediately. Everyone tried to hide their disappointment of her gender. Mary had a feeling that Matthew and most likely Sybil were the only ones not upset with a girl being born.

Matthew had even taken to calling her 'Genie' sometimes.

"I don't like that. It's Eugenia," said Mary.

"Yes, but that sounds like an older girl name. Something we would call her when she is fourteen, not four days old."

"Well I think it's important we call her that."

"What does the name mean anyways?" asked Matthew curiously.

Mary twisted her necklace in between her fingers. "It means 'well born'."

 _ **I know we did some time hopping this chapter. I felt like I wanted to highlight the more important things more than others. From her perspective there are important issues, like having a son, that I chose to focus on. I don't want to add more boring details, so we will be doing time hopping for the rest. I hope that next chapter will run more smoothly compared to this one. If I had to guess, maybe three or four chapters left. I cannot say for sure.**_

 _ **Thank you all for sticking with me and I hope you continue to. I'm 90% sure on the ending I have planned so far and I think you'll love it. Honestly, I can't wait.**_

 _ **Tell me what you think is going to happen in your reviews! Do you really think Mary and Tom are finished? Do you think Mary and Rosamund can keep her secret about Maeve hidden forever? Please let me know!**_

 _ **Lastly, hope you have a wonderful holiday if you are celebrating one. I plan on baking, wrapping presents, and watching Christmas movies the next few days.**_

 _ **My tumblr: mrsmarybranson**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Happy New Year! I hope you all have been enjoying yourselves. My break has ended and so I'm going to try my best to finish this up with weekly updates. I also have to thank all of you for 80 reviews and almost 35 follows. It's awesome to see that my sequel is getting even more of a response. I love hearing what you guys think is going to happen, so please continue. I'm so excited for what I have in store and I think, in the end, you will be also. Thank you for continuing to stick with me. I hope I do you justice for those of you looking for an escape from season 6. Thanks and enjoy!**_

 _They looked at each other, baffled, in love and hate._

 _-Lord of the Flies_

Mary sat down on the couch and forced a smile onto her face as Nanny Smith walked in with Eugenia. The baby gurgled as her small hands reached out to grab Mary's necklace. She sighed as she shifted to better hold her daughter. Eugenia was getting quite big. Nanny left and Mary nervously patted the child's back.

"Carson, where is Mr. Crawley?"

"I believe he had business to attend to, but should be back soon, Milady."

Mary nodded as she pulled Eugenia to her chest. She got nervous when Eugenia would begin to cry and fuss. Eugenia had surpassed the age Maeve was when she was adopted and Mary proved she was no expert on babies. However, Matthew seemed to have the magic touch that could calm Eugenia. Mary hummed quietly in an effort to keep her daughter happy. She wanted to keep her happy, truly she did. Mary wasn't quite sure, but she believed she loved the child. In any case, Eugenia Crawley seemed to love her. Mary was determined not to fail her daughter. She would be try to be a damn good mother.

Mary was lost in her thoughts. Eugenia's dark haired head was pressed against her collarbone, mother and child's eyes closed. She was about to drift off and call for Nanny when Matthew appeared. "Darling, hello," he said as he kissed Mary's forehead.

"Is everything alright?" asked Mary.

"Oh yes, yes. Just a bit of business at the office. No matter, you and Geni—Eugenia have brightened my mood."

Mary smiled as she passed the sleeping baby to Matthew. It was these moments when she could pretend that all the worries were gone; they were a happy family, the three of them. But of course, nothing lasted forever. Or so it seemed.

"We will have to start planning a birthday celebration for her," said Matthew.

"Her birthday is not for another two months, Matthew," reminded Mary.

"I know. But aren't you always wanting to do something grand?"

"Perhaps something. You know Papa will love to show her off to all his acquaintances. I just don't want them to ruin whatever good mood we might have."

"How could they possibly ruin anything?" asked Matthew.

"Well, you know our world. The only _real_ celebrating is done when a boy is born."

Matthew sighed, a crease in his brows forming. "Is everyone still on about that?"

"Matthew, it's important."

"I know it is, I do. But everyone acts as if Eugenia is nothing. I'd like it to be reminded that through her the Crawley gene will continue."

"Of course everyone remembers that. But in addition, we would like to see Downton continue within the family. That is equally important."

Matthew nodded. "I shouldn't begin to worry about that yet though. We have years ahead of us, Mary."

Years, thought Mary sadly. Years to never live up to Matthew's expectations. Years to never spend with Tom Branson.

/

Sybil gently stroked her niece's nose. "She is almost a miniature version of you, Mary."

"I know, poor thing," murmured Mary.

Sybil stopped her motions and gave her eldest sister a look. "You know more than anyone that that is a blessing."

Mary allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. She continued to hold Eugenia tightly as Sybil entertained her and cooed to her. She heard Sybil's voice, but it faded to the background as she looked out at Downton's grounds. These were hers, but they would be hers in every sense one day. The day she and Matthew would stand at the front as Lord and Lady Grantham. She wondered, wasn't she supposed to feel happier about that?

Mary's thoughts were halted as she saw Tom. Her eyes followed his form as he moved around, focused on something. She watched his eyes cast downwards, his lips moving slightly. Mary turned away before he could catch her and her gaze settled back on Sybil and Eugenia. She twirled her necklace around her finger as she asked, "Sybil, darling, do you still talk with the chauffeur?"

Sybil's eyes never left her niece's as she replied, "Yes. It's not a daily thing, but I do enjoy the chats."

"I wish you wouldn't talk so frequently with him."

Sybil now met Mary's gaze, a frown forming. "I understood it that you were fond of Tom. Anyways, what harm is it doing?"

Mary's cheeks heated up as she said, "It does great harm. Darling, I know you are looking for excitement and do not think you can find it in _our_ lifestyle, but you can. There are plenty of opportunities and excitement to be had within our realm, with people we know."

"The only thing we discuss is politics."

"How do you know he does not want more from you?" asked Mary. Her insides twisted at the thought as she gripped her child harder.

Sybil stood straight. "There is no doubt that he seeks nothing more from me than friendship."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Mary. "He is a man after all and you are a young woman—"

"I know because he loves _you_."

"You don't know what you are talking about."

"Of course I do. He asked me about you and Matthew after the news of your engagement. He wanted to know what was going on with you and-"

"How dare you," hissed Mary. She stood up too, shifting Eugenia in her arms. "You have no right to talk with him about my personal affairs, Sybil. I do not know what you have said or what he has said and I don't care to know. I've done what I had to do and I do not need people continuing to question my motives."

"Mary, no one is questioning your—"

"Tom Branson does not need to know what goes on in this house. His job is outside. Please do not speak of Matthew and I to him again."

"I promise, Mary. At the time I was only trying to be a friend to him. I never meant to hurt you or Matthew."

Mary felt guilty, but she could not take back what she said. "You haven't done any serious harm, Sybil. Let's just forget everything. We were having such a nice time, you and Eugenia and I. Please, let's pretend everything did not happen. Please."

/

It was after dinner, the gentlemen had joined the ladies, and Matthew stood next to Mary. "I see your sister seems quite taken with Sir Anthony."

Mary sniffed. "Yes, Edith does know how to pick them."

"Be nice," Matthew chastised. "You can hardly judge. Marrying an unworthy solicitor and all."

Mary glanced at her husband, but his eyes were sparkling with joy. She couldn't help but return the smile, even though her heart hurt.

She glanced back at Edith and Sir Anthony. How was it that Edith would most likely end up with the love of her life? A man closer to death than to youth and dull as a rock. Mary frowned and quickly gulped down the rest of her wine.

/

Mary had been dragged along to see Lord Merton and his sons. She adored Lord Merton, but found his sons rather rude. She despised them, in fact. But Cora was quite sure that she could marry off Sybil to one of them. It was all rather hilarious, until her Mama grabbed her arm and headed towards the car.

Cora had ushered Mary forward as she went back inside to fetch Edith and Sybil. Suddenly, Mary was quite alone with the man she was too cowardly to face.

She turned to look at him and found he resembled a statue. He stood straight, eyes forward, and didn't acknowledge her presence. She edged closer. "Hello, Tom."

For a moment she thought he would continue to ignore her until he muttered, "Hello, Lady Mary."

"You don't have to call me that. Not when it's just us," she reminded him.

His eyes were still forward as he replied, "That would be unprofessional, Milady."

"Is that all we are? An employer and a servant?" she asked. "I—I thought we could be friends."

"I was under the impression I was not allowed to be friends with anyone from the house."

His words were cold. She sighed and twisted her necklace around her finger. "What do you mean?"

"Lady Sybil said that she could not discuss certain matters with me anymore, like her family for example. She said you felt uncomfortable with it. Tell me, Lady Mary, does that make you uncomfortable?" he asked. Tom was facing her now after a quick glance around. "Honest to God, I do not give a _fuck_ if us talking makes you uneasy."

Mary was shocked at his language. "You make me sound cruel."

"You are cruel. After everything that has happened, how can you act otherwise? You let me give my heart to you and then you turned your back. You married Matthew Crawley, a solicitor from Manchester. You married him after I gave you everything I had, which wasn't much."

"Tom, please. I've continuously told you how much I cared for you. I loved you. That was not a lie. I could not give you my everything, but honestly you wouldn't want it."

He frowned, moving closer. "Of course I want you. I don't know how you could think I would not want to be with you. That is all I've wanted. I love you."

Mary realized she was crying and brushed the tears away. They were staring at each other now, closer than they had been in a long time. "Please kiss me," she whispered.

Tom shook his head. She felt more tears start to fall. He said, "I am not a cheater. And I know that you want to honor your marriage to Mr. Crawley."

Tears continued to fall, but she found herself nodding.

Tom smiled sadly. "Just so you know, you have nothing to worry about with Lady Sybil. I could never look at another woman the way I look at you. You will always be it for me, Mary."

"No, no please don't say that. I feel as though I've stolen your life away from you. I've caused so much anger and anguish for you. And yet, I selfishly want you near me. Only for me. There is nothing more in this life that I want than you, my darling."

He opened his mouth to reply, but then Cora appeared with Edith and Sybil behind her. "Here we are. Sorry for the wait, darling. We are ready now, Branson!"

Mary glanced away and quickly shuffled into the car. She stared out the window as she listened to her mother raddle on about the Greys and Lord Merton.

Cora clasped her hands together. "They are quite respectable. And what more could a woman ask for?"

/

Eugenia giggled, reaching out for Matthew among the fuss. Mary smiled as people showered them with compliments. Everyone thought Eugenia was delightful and beautiful. Staring at her daughter, Mary could not help but agree.

"See, this was the perfect idea," said Matthew happily.

"I will concede that it was a brilliant idea," she replied.

"It makes you want to have more, doesn't it?" asked Matthew. His voice a whisper, heard by only herself.

"You know the answer to that."

"Yes, but besides a son. More children."

Mary's eyebrows drew together. Her role was to produce an heir.

She thought of Tom. She thought of their conversation, the hurt and love in his voice. She thought of Matthew and everything he had given her. Her knuckled turned white as she gripped the sides of the chair she was sitting in.

 _She could be happy, should she choose to be._

 _ **Thank you everyone for being patient about the updates. You all have been wonderful about waiting and reviewing. Again, I cannot thank you enough for all the support for this story. I love reading what you have to say. Please continue to review! I know you guys want Brary, but there is a purpose for all of this. Just be patient and stick with me, please!I really don't know what to say other than as you all know Downton is not mine (but I wish it was to fix the crap ending).**_

 _ **My tumblr: mrsmarybranson**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Hello everyone! Thank you so much for over 80 reviews and 35 follows! Your support means so much to me and I'm happy that you guys are enjoying the story. For those of you following my tumblr, you know I've said 3-4 chapters left. I am still thinking that is what is left of this story, however, I cannot be sure. I've loved writing this and it's been a great storyline these last two stories. I am excited for you guys to read the ending. Please review. Enjoy.**_

" _And what will you give me in return, Severus?'  
'In – in return?' Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, 'Anything..."_

It was one of those days where Matthew insisted on acting as a family should. By that, he meant having Eugenia join him along with Mary on a walk around the grounds. Their daughter's short legs were wobbly, unstable even, but Matthew insisted on walking.

Mary walked silently, letting the grass crush under her shoes. She trailed slightly behind her family. _Her family._ She watched Matthew bend down to Eugenia and point something out, causing the girl to giggle. It was odd, Mary decided, to think that she had her own family. A family separate from Mama and Papa and her sisters.

"Is everything alright, Mary?" called Matthew. His eyes were bright and the wind tussled his blonde locks.

"Quite," she replied.

Matthew smiled and scooped Eugenia up as they waited for Mary. She hastened her walk, offering a somewhat apologetic smile. Matthew began to speak again as she walked next to her family. _Her family._

/

Mary held onto her hat as the wind blew. A hair had fallen out of her twist and she brushed it away in annoyance. She straightened her back and focused on the man speaking.

"Alright, Lady Mary if you could please focus on me. Please lean in closer to Lady Edith. You also, Lady Sybil. That is perfect," said the overly cheerful man. With a flash, their faces were preserved.

It was Edith's wedding day and she had demanded a photographer be present.

"Are you nervous?" asked Sybil, who also donned a hat and lace gloves.

"Not at all. I'm very excited to start my life with Anthony. I do not know why I wanted to marry any other man; I could not settle for anyone less."

Mary scowled. "I hope you are not insinuating Matthew is less of a gentleman than Sir Anthony."

"None of this today, please," said Sybil. "Anyways, Mary we should head inside."

Mary nodded and followed her sister. She quickly found Matthew who had been waiting for her. He held out his arm which she took. "You look upset," he whispered.

"Oh, it has to do with Edith."

"It's her wedding day, the only moment where the attention has ever solely been on her."

"Yes. But you know Granny isn't happy with the union. She's bound to cause a stir."

"I should hope not. Edith deserves this one day. After all, the two have been dancing around each other for the last year or so."

Mary nodded as she glanced at the groom. He looked incredibly nervous, yet pleased in a way. She smiled slightly, "Your future brother-in-law and he is at least twenty years your senior."

"Mary, hush," he whispered. However, a smile graced his face.

Without another condescending word, they joined her family. Cora was overjoyed, but the rest looked reserved with only polite smiles donning their faces. Their reactions were quite different than Mary and Matthew's wedding. Had she married anyone else, she was sure their reactions would be what they were currently.

Mary bit her lip.

Had she married Tom Branson, would they have attended her wedding?

/

Rosamund had made an appearance to see her second niece get married. She stood near Mary after the service, both with drinks in their hands.

"Edith looked quite happy today," Rosamund said.

"Of course. Someone married her. She had everything she has dreamed of," Mary replied. Her tone was a bit too harsh.

"Are you implying you have not gotten your hearts desires? Because, my dear, you have Downton in your grasp. You will be countess. You have a husband who truly loves you and a beautiful daughter who is happy. And," said Rosamund, her voice dropping an octave. "There is a little girl far off in Switzerland who is quite happy as well. Are you saying that you would no longer do anything for her?"

"Absolutely not," hissed Mary.

"So you would still do anything for her?"

"Anything," Mary murmured.

"And that is why we are here and having this conversation," replied Rosamund.

/

The family stood in the hall, slipping on hats and gloves, as they prepared for their day out. They were to visit Locksley, Edith's new home.

It was hard for Mary to imagine Edith as mistress of an estate, a host, a wife. She found she got bitter at the thought that Edith had everything she wanted in life. The home, the lifestyle, the husband.

Mama and Papa got into the first car, the driver closing the door behind them and moving to the front.

The door to Mary's car was opened. Tom stood tall, holding the door opened.

"Why don't we let Eugenia go in first?" said Matthew, bringing Mary back to the situation. She nodded and Matthew helped his daughter into the car. Next Mary got in, followed by Sybil, and finally Matthew. They were quite cramped, but Mary did not dare speak. It had been a while since she had had a proper conversation with Tom and she didn't want to strike one up in a cramped car, her family surrounding her.

The drive was not unbearable and suddenly Mary found herself looking at a rather old, but sophisticated house. Right in front, was an old man with a blonde clinging onto his arm. Mary rolled her eyes. Edith's smile could not have been larger. Her sister held her head high as if Sir Anthony and Locksley were prizes to be shown off.

As soon as everyone was out of the car, Edith pulled their mother into a hug. She began talking about her new life as she went down the row, hugging. Mary stiffened when Edith wrapped her arms around her, her lavender perfume invading Mary's nose. "It is just _wonderful_ to see you, Mary."

Mary's lip twitched, but she only smiled at Edith in return. Understanding her look, Edith pulled away. "Well, let us show you inside."

Edith gave them a short, small tour and Mary found herself unsurprisingly unimpressed. Locksley was nothing compared to Downton. It was nice, she supposed. It had value and Sir Anthony did have a few nice paintings, but there was nothing special. Locksley was just another home in her world of aristocratic homes with similar characteristics.

And as they sat down to tea, it was clear Cora was overdramatizing the house.

"Locksley is absolutely gorgeous. I'm not sure how I was unaware of its beauty."

Matthew nodded politely. "You have a lovely home, Sir Anthony."

"Oh please, call me Anthony. We are family now."

Mary's brows furrowed at the reminder. Her sister the former Lady Edith Crawley, was now Lady Edith Strallan. Now Mary was family with Sir Anthony by association. Her nose wrinkled slightly at the thought.

"Well," said Cora. "This home is just divine. Do you agree, Sybil? Wouldn't you love to live in a home similar to this?"

All eyes shifted to Sybil, who had been sitting quietly next to Eugenia. Her youngest sister licked her lips, eyes wandering around the large room. "The house is beautiful. It would be nice, I suppose. However, I would not wish to be defined just by the house I live in."

Mama looked stricken, but Sir Anthony paid no mind. "I agree with you. There are many things one must do with their life."

Sybil simply nodded as Edith tried to turn the conversation in a different direction. Edith stood straighter as she began to talk the remodeling they might do on the library. Sir Anthony was not particularly enthusiastic, but he smiled at Edith none the same. They leaned in close to one another as she spoke, hands almost touching. It was clear they were comfortable with each other and, in their odd way, happy together. Edith had gotten what she wanted. Every single bit of it.

Mary turned away from the sight of them, sipping her tea, and looking out at Locksley's grounds. The idea that life wasn't fair had been thrown in her face today. She set the tea cup down. It did no good to think of how life had wronged her. It only made her angry and even worse, angry at herself.

/

"What did you think of Locksley?" asked Matthew.

They were sitting in bed, his book resting on his chest. His eyes were focused on her as she twisted her braid. She let her hands fall to her side as she sighed. "It was nice enough. Edith glorified it too much though. And Mama, she was almost no better."

"I think Cora wanted Sybil to take a particular interest in that lifestyle. She only has one daughter left to marry off."

It was true. Cora was also trying to make sure Sybil did something society would approve of. The Crawleys didn't like stepping out of the norm. With this thought Mary said, "Yes, I'm sure that was what Mama was doing. Still, Edith's life is hardly one to brag about."

"Either way I do not see Sybil marrying someone like Sir Anthony."

Mary nodded. She paused a moment before commenting, "I am sure Edith's next aspiration is to be a mother."

Matthew nodded. "Yes, but I do not see how that is our business."

Mary leaned in closer to him. "What if she has a son?"

"I'm not sure what you are getting at, darling."

"She could name him after Papa! That and worse, well, I do not even want to mention what else."

"Are you saying you wish to beat her to it?"

Mary pursed her lips. "Your words sound rather harsh, but yes."

Matthew got a new look in his eye. A smile spread across his face. "Well darling, we must practice."

Before Mary could get another word in, her body was pulled flush against Matthew's, his breath tickling her cheek.

She closed her eyes, desperate to feel some sort of relief.

/

Business had taken Matthew to London. He had left with the promise of a quick return. Mary spent her time in the nursery. Eugenia's hair was exactly how Mary's was when she was young. It curled and the dark stood out against her pale skin. She held her doll close as bursts of laughter broke out. She was always laughing and Mary could not complain. Mary hoped she was doing a good job. She hoped she was a good mother.

It was these rare moments that she would allow herself to think of Maeve. Did Maeve have a small doll in a purple dress with blonde locks? Did she fall asleep after a long day of play? Did her cheeks turn rosy from laughter?

After a minute or two, Mary would stop thinking about her. She had given herself a limit of two minutes to think about the daughter she would never know. Because, after two minutes Mary started to lose her composure. She would begin to get frustrated, tears would form. It wasn't fair to Eugenia either. She had a daughter who was present in her life and it was best to focus on her.

And in the moments she was not in the nursery, Mary was in the library or the gardens. She would sit and stare until she had lost track of time. It was those moments when Mary had never felt so alone. She would stare a moment longer—as if staring for something that couldn't be found—before returning inside as the cool and composed Lady Mary.

And then she would seek out Eugenia to remind herself that there was some part of her left that was not bitter. Not yet, at least.

/

Mary sat across from Sybil. It was a rare moment alone between the two.

Mary sat her book down, gazing at her sister. "Sybil, may I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Her voice was shaky. "How is Tom?"

/

The family was gathered around the fire. It was starting to get cool as they approached the end of November. Papa was on his second glass of whiskey; Mama was sitting at the table in the corner with Isobel as they played cards. Granny was sitting on the couch, closer to sleep than alertness. Sybil sat on the couch, observing them.

It occurred to Mary that there was no perfect moment. She had been waiting for it, for at least a week, to share the news. She had been fatigued more than usual. Her stomach was sensitive and she now had Ms. Patmore making the same meal every day for breakfast. Her body would hurt despite the fact she was not old.

Her hand withdrew from Matthew's as she stood up and cleared her throat. "I need your attention."

Everyone focused on her, Papa's eyes only shifting to his glass for a moment. They waited, eyebrows raised. Mary smiled slightly, "I've recently gone to the doctor and it would appear I am pregnant."

Cora was up within a second, pulling her eldest daughter close. "Oh that is wonderful news."

Isobel was equally excited as she stood to hug Mary and Matthew.

"A boy," said Papa. "It will be a boy."

Mary smiled nervously because she hoped to God he was right. She had cried when the doctor told her. It only occurred to her now as to why the tears had started falling. A part of her was sad at the idea of going through it all again only to not be rewarded with a son. A part of her was tired at the thought of her body going through it all a _third_ time. Her lip had trembled as she thought of Tom. They were broken beyond repair, but a son would be the final blow. She would have it all then and he would think of himself as a memory. God she wanted him. She _wanted_ him. But she also wanted this. She wanted a baby boy. She wanted to hand Matthew his new son, the heir to Downton. Mary was not sure which thought scared her more. The idea that she was becoming content with life or the idea that she would never fully be content.

 _ **Thank you guys so much! I know some of you may think there is not enough Brary but there is a reason why. Next chapter is going to have an incredibly huge, important dialogue between the two. I'm going to briefly mention the war and that's all I will say…**_

 _ **Please stick with me, only three more chapters (most likely) after this. Please let me know what you think will happen next. I'm telling you, you will love the ending because there's Brary of course! How do you think it will happen though? Review and tell me because I love reading what you have to say.**_

 _ **Also, I quoted Harry Potter (Snape, on purpose) after the lovely Alan Rickman passed. He was the best Snape. RIP.**_

 _ **I'm on tumblr: mrsmarybranson**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Hello everyone. I would like to once again thank you for your kind reviews. 85! I cannot believe this story is coming to its end. However, there is still a lot to come these last chapters. I'm so excited to share this with you! I hope you will leave a review, favorite, or follow letting me know you like this story. The success of this is because of all of you. You gave me excitement to write a sequel and to continue writing Brary. Again, I'm not sure at the exact number of chapters left… I'm thinking 2-3. I will keep you posted on tumblr. Enjoy!**_

 _Pure perfect sorrow is as impossible as pure and perfect joy._

 _-War and Peace_

Mary pushed herself back, her shoulder blades hitting the headboard as she let her head fall back. Cries filled the room. Anna brought a damp cloth and laid it over Mary's forehead. "Very good job, Milady."

Mary sighed. "Thank you, Anna."

She pulled the cloth off and handed it back. The doctor was examining the baby and had yet to say a word. Mary licked her lips nervously, waiting to hear the gender. Finally, he turned to face her. "Congratulations, Lady Mary. You have a fine, healthy son."

Mary pressed her hand to her mouth, fingers shaking. Cora, who had been in the room, began to cry. The baby was placed into Mary's arms and she looked down at him. A boy. She had done it.

"I will get Matthew," whispered Cora.

Mary nodded as she stared at the small being. Her entire life she had dreamt of this moment. The moment the doctor would place her son into her arms. Her smile was shaky as she stared down at him.

"Mary!"

She looked up to meet Matthew's frantic eyes. His grin widened as he anxiously made his way over to the bed. His attention was drawn to the small bundle. "It's a boy, Matthew. A boy."

He nodded. "Cora said. Robert and I could not believe it—but oh my darling, what wonderful gift."

"Yes. And now the only thing left is we must name him."

"You know my preference. It's a fine choice, you even admitted that."

Mary's cheeks flushed. "That was because of the rush of the moment. I still think naming him after Papa is proper."

Matthew shook his head. "You like the idea of flaunting his name to Edith. You live in different houses and you still insist on this rivalry. Besides, naming him after your father would add quite a lot of weight to his shoulders. He would feel the pressure of living up to Robert's standards and I want him to be his own person."

"I still do not like it."

"Darling, you may name our next child. How is that? In any case, each child has a name from your side of the family. I'm the one who should be upset."

"You said you did not wish to name him Reginald."

"I do not. But as a middle name it would not hurt. But let's settle this now. Are we agreed that his middle name will be Robert?"

Mary huffed. "I suppose. At least we have a son."

"Then we can introduce the family to Theodore Robert Crawley."

/

Mary was in the nursery with Eugenia and Theodore. It came as a surprising relief to Mary that her daughter did not feel less loved or enjoyed. Mary realized how much she loved her eldest child when they introduced her to the new addition.

"Mama," called Eugenia. "Why does Teddy not have any hair?"

Mary winced at the nickname. It seemed that Eugenia had embraced her father's nickname for their son. Glancing down at the baby's head Mary noted that there were still no hairs. "Well he will have hair soon. He is very young and I think that his hair will be far lighter than yours and mine."

"Like Papa's?"

"Yes, exactly."

Eugenia smiled at Mary's answer. Then, she returned her attention to her dolls. For Eugenia, her world had not been shaken too much. However, Mary assumed, not everyone at Downton could say the same.

/

It was morning and Mary sat at her vanity, running a hand through her loose locks. She was waiting for Anna's arrival. Soon enough, the blonde arrived.

"Good morning, Lady Mary."

"Hello, Anna. How are you?"

Anna's cheeks flushed, a small smile spread across her face. "Very well, Milady."

"Things are well downstairs?" Mary asked as she began undressing."

"Yes. Everyone is still quite excited for you, Milady. Mr. Bates and I were only just talking about how wonderful it is."

"Please let them know I thank everyone for their kindness and well wishes."

"Of course. They will be very happy to get that message."

"Anna," said Mary, her voice hesitant. "Was _everyone_ truly thrilled?"

Anna's motions stopped for a moment as she met Mary's eyes. Then, she began to pull the dress up as she spoke. "Are you inquiring about Tom Branson?"

"Yes."

"Well… he simply said he knew you would be happy."

Mary nodded. "I see."

"It really was not that bad, Milady."

"Oh Anna. I feel awful when I think of them. I have not treated Tom Branson the way he deserves to be treated. But he cannot know the truth—"

"The truth, Milady?"

Mary blanched. "Never mind that. But of course my lingering feelings do no good as I'm married to Mr. Crawley. I do not wish to hurt his feelings. Either of their feelings. Yet, whether they are aware or not, I am doing it."

"I think Mr. Crawley is very happy. I have never seen a man so happy with life. As for Tom, I do not think he regrets a thing. On the outside he may think he does, but inside I am sure he will realize he does not."

"You are trying to ease my anxiety Anna and I thank you."

"I meant every word, Lady Mary. It is a fine thing to be loved by two men, especially those men. But I believe it is equally fine for them to be loved by you."

/

Tea had ended and the children were coming down. Cora talked about the latest fashion from Paris, trying to get Sybil enthused. Matthew sat next to Mary, reading quietly.

The door swung open and Nanny Smith brought Eugenia and Theodore over.

"Hello, darlings," cooed Cora. Eugenia went to her grandmother's opened arms, a smile on her face.

Robert scooped up Theodore before anyone else. "He shall look like me, I'm sure of it."

Mary rolled her eyes. "He has no hair yet, Papa. I am sure he is destined to be blond like Matthew. And Theodore has Matthew's eyes also. It seems as though he will be taking after Matthew and Isobel's side of the family."

Robert nodded. "No matter. He is a Crawley which is the important thing."

"Yes," Mary hummed. "Did you say Edith responded to your letter?"

"Yes, she offered her congratulations. She also said she and Sir Anthony have news they would like to share the next time they see us."

"Oh no," hissed Mary. "She must be pregnant. She is doing this to spite me. Stealing the attention away from poor Theodore."

"I'm sure that isn't the case," replied Cora.

Mary rolled her eyes as she focused back on her father and her son. It seemed that everything had come together perfectly. She just wished it would begin to feel perfect.

/

"Mary darling, look. Teddy has hair!"

Mary was still a bit tired as Matthew thrust their child into her arms. She squinted, inspecting his head. Sure enough, there were several blond wisps clinging to his head. Mary raised her eyebrows, focusing back on Matthew.

The sight was somewhat warming, and she pulled him down for a kiss.

/

Mary could not help but bite her lip as her sister hovered over the pram. Edith, as she suspected, was pregnant. It was clear by the loose fitting maroon dress she wore.

Edith had announced it the moment she had stepped foot in the house. Sir Anthony looked more dazed than usual. Mary suspected he never pictured being a father at the age he currently was.

Edith spent most of the time talking about her nerves and how her pregnancy had gone thus far. Mary found it utterly boring. Instead she focused on the children, who had been permitted to stay a while longer to visit with their aunt.

"Hopefully your motherly instincts will awaken," Mary said.

Edith's nose scrunched up as she glared at her. "Well, they did for _you_ so they certainly will for me."

Mary frowned. However, Sybil quickly stepped in. "Let's discuss something different in front of the children… Do you have any thoughts yet of what you will name the baby?"

A large grin donned Edith's face. "Yes. Anthony, why don't you tell them what we would name a daughter."

Sir Anthony looked startled as he leaned forward. He offered a smile that looked similar to a grimace. "We were thinking perhaps, Lily. Lily Elizabeth."

Cora nodded her approval. "And what about a son?"

Edith coughed. "I would like to use a family name and Anthony has no objections. If we have a son we will name him Patrick. Patrick Alexander Strallan."

Mary felt her cheeks flame. "How dare you!"

"What do you have a claim on that name as well? I loved Patrick as a family member should. I cried when we lost him. It's very fitting, I think."

"Considering your relationship with Patrick, I don't think it is at all appropriate."

"Oh please. As if you honestly dislike losing the change to name a son Patrick. You would never do such a thing. You thought him a bore. Mary, you always think—"

"That is enough," said Cora. "This discussion is over. I hoped for a pleasant reunion. We should not continue to focus on the past. The past is the past for a reason. It was terribly sorrow, but we must focus on now. Now is all that matters."

/

War.

 _War._ England was at war with Germany and many speculated many more countries would join the fight before it was over. The word was bitter in Mary's mouth. Young men had either rushed to enlist or nervously looked for an escape of what would surely be living hell.

She had begged Matthew to stay. He had said he would eventually get drawn in somehow. She did not believe it though. So for now, he resided at Downton. Mary thought that he felt guilty, at least somewhat. But she reminded him that their children needed a father. And so, he was convinced to not enlist right away. She had convinced him that night, pleading in a way she never had before. Mary had let the tears fall, hugging her husband tightly. Matthew had become a constant, a constant she unknowingly needed. She loved him, she thought.

But there was someone else she needed to convince.

She sought him out in the early morning after confirming no one needed the car until early afternoon. Her feet took her to the garage. She nocked carefully, waiting for a reply.

"Coming, coming," he called.

She stood straighter, adjusting her hat. The door swung open and brown eyes met blue. "Tom."

His mouth opened slightly as he drunk her presence in. "What are you doing here, Lady Mary?"

"There's a war. It is all anyone can talk about and I'm sure you are not immune to all that is being said. I only hope that you will not consider enlisting."

His brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"I hope you are not considering enlisting to go to war."

He frowned. "It is a duty. Men my age and young and older are going out there to fight, to die serving—"

"Exactly! They will _die_. You mustn't be so foolish as it could be a death sentence. And I was under the impression you did not love England."

"It's far more complicated than that. I cannot sit back and do nothing."

Mary felt her body shake as she moved closer. "But why can't you? What is it with you men feeling as though you must throw yourself into the action no matter the cost? There are people here that need you. Yet—yet you are willing to die and never see them again. Never see me again. And how shall I live with that? Without you in my world?"

Tom's lips pressed together as he regarded her. Mary realized she was breathing heavily as she took a step back. She had only meant to inquire what his plans were concerning the war. She had not meant to get so personal.

"Mary," he said hesitantly. "There seems to be nothing in this world that I care more about than you. But this is a war and there is much at stake."

She shook her head. "Please do not go. Do not leave me in this world without you."

"You seem certain that something bad will happen."

"I am not certain of anything. I'm unsure of what will happen to all of you."

"Did you give him this speech as well?"

"Who?" she asked as she kicked a stone.

"Your husband."

"As a matter of fact, I did. Because I care about him and I care about you. A great deal, too. I've never been so scared of losing a person. Or people. I'm not quite sure, which scares me even more. It seems I know nothing anymore Tom…"

Mary stepped farther back. She needed to leave. "I know I'm by far the last person you want to listen to. But I needed to tell you. You needed to know that despite everything, there would be an Englishwoman back home who would be praying for many things, your safety included."

 _ **Okay so I was originally thinking of ending this chapter differently but I didn't. I have to decide if next chapter will be longer or if I will break it up differently than originally planned. We'll see, but don't worry I will figure it out.**_

 _ **I'll let you know now… I had a death planned for this chapter but we didn't get to it. Who do you think it was going to be / will be (?)?**_

 _ **Thank you for your continuous support and I hope you will review letting me know what you think. 2-3 chapters left. Let's finish this together!**_

 _ **My tumblr: mrsmarybranson**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Hello everyone! It is crazy to think that this story is coming to its end. This plotline has been with me for months and it will be sad to say goodbye. I'm excited to finish it though so everyone can read it. Also, thank you for continuing to review. It means a lot to know that people are reading the story and keeping up. I appreciate how invested in this story you are. For the Anon who was surprised that Tom wanted to enlist… you will get answers this chapter. Mary**_ **assumed** _ **he was going to enlist. And assumptions are not always correct. I cannot give an exact number of chapters left but I am thinking 1-2. Thank you all. Enjoy!**_

 _When sorrows come, they come not single spies. But in battalions!_

 _-Hamlet Act IV scene V_

The room was quite as the only occupants were Mary and Sybil. Her youngest extolled the plot of the latest book she was reading. Cora was in the nursery with the children. Matthew was at work. Papa was somewhere trying to convince men that he needed a bigger part in the war. Mary's stomach dropped at the thought of the war. Matthew had begun talking again about doing his "duty". She feared what measures he would go to so that he too could feel more involved.

Mary sighed, setting down the partially embroidered cloth. "Sybil, may we talk honestly?"

Sybil's focus shifted, a smile forming. "You needn't ask."

"It's about…" Mary drifted off. She had spoken with her sister more than ever about Tom Branson.

"Oh." Sybil's brows drew together. "Of course. What do you wish to know?"

"What is he thinking about the war?"

"I'm not sure what you are asking, Mary."

"About enlisting. What has he said?"

Sybil's brows dropped. She licked her lips. "Mary, you must know that he—"

The words died on Sybil's lips as Cora came in with the children. Eugenia was holding onto her grandmother's arm and Theodore was tucked in the pram. Mary settled back against the chair. She gave her sister a look, hoping to finish the conversation later. Surely, Tom would have enough sense to not enlist. There was already much talk about the tragedies occurring and Mary could not begin to picture any men she knew facing the barbaric Germans.

/

Mama tried often to turn the dinner conversation away from the war. She would wiggle her fingers, a tight smile on her face, as she tried to speak of fashion or old memories. It was a poor attempt and did no good against Papa's ranting about his position.

Matthew, too, would join the conversation to ponder what he could do for the war effort. Mary's lips would pinch tight and she would share a look with her mother. It seemed even Downton Abbey could not escape the Great War.

/

"Sybil, do you have time to finish our earlier conversation?" asked Mary as she entered the room.

Sybil's hair hung loosely around her shoulders. Turning, she replied, "Absolutely."

Motioning to the bed, they both climbed onto it as if they were young girls again. Mary pulled her legs underneath her. "What were you going to say earlier?"

"I was answering your question. Of course Tom does not agree with the war. He is a Republican," said Sybil with a laugh. "Although that does not mean he is _happy_ to see men his age go off to fight."

"I was talking to him the other day. I was almost certain he would think of enlisting."

"The war does not align with his views."

Mary felt her heart beat faster. "I was worried about him and—he let me talk like a fool. I gave this speech about not enlisting and he had no plans to. He let me humiliate myself."

"Well you are not involved in politics, Mary. It is reasonable that you did not—"

"He let me make a _fool_ of myself, Sybil."

"I don't think he intended that. But he will not be fighting, so it is pointless. You know he has a heart murmur."

Mary shook her head. Sybil was speaking about things she, for once, did not know about Tom. "I did not know."

"I thought he told you. Well, you have nothing to worry about because they have deemed him unfit to fight."

Mary stood up. "I need to leave. Good night, Sybil."

"Are you alright Mary?"

 _No._ "Perfectly fine."

She felt her heart sink. He must not care for her, to let her ramble on about something that was not a possibility. Mary sneered, and hear she opened up to him. To a man she thought would volunteer just as her husband was willing to do. As any noble man would do.

She felt weak as she headed down the hallway to their room. She felt betrayed and upset. And exhausted. Apparently, she was nothing to Tom anymore, but Sybil was. No matter her sister viewing him as a friend only, it still stung.

/

Saying goodbye to Matthew was one of the hardest things Mary had endured. She had tried to keep her voice level as she spoke because the last thing she wanted was for the children to get nervous.

"I will miss you," she whispered.

His eyes bore into hers, a smile gracing his face. "You know I shall not go a day without thinking about you. Or Eugenia and Teddy."

Mary wrapped her arms around him. Her voice was muffled as she said, "Please come back home safe."

"I love you."

The words were not bitter on her lips for once. They were light and soft despite the mood. Her lips brushed against his ear. "I love you, Matthew."

Then Mary pulled away as she resolved to not appear weak any longer. She would have more responsibility due to Matthew's absence.

Matthew bent down to hug and kiss his children. Mary pressed her palms against her dress. Together they watched him board the train, leaving them in his wake.

"Your Papa will not be gone forever. He will be back before you know it."

/

She stood in the garage, facing him. Her arms were crossed and she felt dizzy. "I know you let me go on about how you should not enlist. You never planned on it."

"I—"

"You _coward_ ," she hissed.

Tom stared blankly at her. It appeared they were past hurling meaningless insults back and forth. "I did not mean to humiliate you."

"Why did you not say something?"

"Because those were the truest words you have spoken to me in a long time. I wanted to relish in them."

"At my expense."

"I did not mean it in that way."

"I may not be as politically savvy as you or Sybil, but that doesn't mean you should let me ramble like a fool."

"Mary—" he reached forward.

"I was terrified, you know. The idea of losing you is one of my greatest fears. The idea of losing both of you and I would die. I needed you to know that."

"After that declaration, I certainly know it. We have been out of sync for a while now, but the feelings are still there. At least, for me they are. I still remember the dashing you woman brazenly asking me to be her lover," he said. Mary's cheeks turned red. "I'm sorry, I suppose I should not have said that."

"No," she shook her head. "I don't want to ignore the past. Not when I have so many wonderful memories. Because of you, Tom. Yet, here we are now and I'm quite afraid we will never be the same."

He shrugged his shoulders. "We would never have been the same regardless of what happened."

"Do you still love me?"

He coughed in surprise, eyebrows drawing up. "What do you think?"

"I do not know anymore. I would like to hope that you do, but that is quite selfish, isn't it?"

"Love is seldom selfish."

Mary's thoughts drifted to Maeve. The small child in her arms that would gaze up at her and babble. The child that Mary swore already had her nose. The child that was a product, a creation of their _love._ She nodded and replied, "That's true enough. Though you cannot say you think of me the same way. After everything that has happened."

"You mean after you married Mr. Matthew Crawley?"

"Yes, I suppose I do mean that."

"I looked at you and I could almost pretend as if nothing had ever happened. That you had truly considered spending your life with me. Then reality dawned and I had never felt angrier. I knew I still loved you. I relished in the fact I had been able to do things with you, _to you_ before him. Then again, he has given you things that I never had."

"Like?"

"The children," he answered. Mary gulped but kept her gaze steady on him. "But equally as important, a title. The promise of a secure future in a world that was familiar and comfortable to you. He gave you your home."

Mary cocked her head to the side. "Will you still not kiss me?"

Surprise was evident, but he quickly shook his head. "That would be cheating and I don't think you would want me to do that."

"I want to feel your lips against mine," she whispered. "I want you to kiss me so terribly much. But that would be cheating and I do not cheat. Could not cheat, not on Matthew."

He nodded, a mixture of disappointment and understanding in his eyes. He moved to the doorway, his hand outstretched to guide her out.

Mary followed his lead, but paused by the entrance. Licking her lips, she said, "So you know, Tom, you were right. Matthew has given me things that you never had. But love, you have given me things Matthew never could."

She did not wait to see his reaction. She briskly stepped out and headed back for the house. Mary was tired and a bit of time alone sounded pleasant.

"Wait!" he called.

Mary glanced around and seeing no once, moved closer. "Yes?"

"I do love you. Perhaps not in the same way, or the way I thought I did, but I still do. I do not thing that makes it any less great."

"True enough," she repeated. The corner of her mouth turned upwards as she added, "And I love you. And that is no greater nor lesser than my love for others in this world. I love _you_."

/

Edith was staying a few days at Downton. She held a squirming Patrick Strallan in her arms. He was rather chubby, sandy brown strands of hair covered his head. Mary stared at him, realizing he was her nephew. She was an aunt. She nearly choked at the thought.

She glanced around the room at everyone who appeared to think Patrick was the most precious thing on earth. Her vision felt a bit fuzzy around the edges. Perhaps it was because the idea had never truly crossed her mind that Edith would have a child.

Edith set Patrick on the floor, allowing him to scoot across to Theodore. She crossed her legs, her white shoes peeking out. "How is Matthew?"

Mary glanced away. She resented the fact Edith knew exactly where her husband was and how he was doing. Sir Anthony would be useless in the war and therefore resided safely at Locksley or his London home. She replied tersely, "Well enough."

"I hope so. My, how long has it been since I have seen him?"

Mary shrugged her shoulders. _Months._

/

It was an uneventful day until Sybil burst through the library doors. She had become a nurse and was still dressed in the uniform. Her cheeks were pink as she talked about the exciting treatments she was learning about. She spoke of Clarkson and how it was also nice to see Isobel so frequently.

"My it sounds as if the hospital is a ball," said Mary. She felt bad as the words left her lips. Men were coming back, some with simple wounds and others who would never be the person they once were.

Sybil, however, ignored her sister's sarcasm. "It is fascinating. And you meet all kinds of people there. In fact I was talking to one gentleman in particular who was quite nice."

"Oh?"

"It wasn't like that. At least, I don't believe it was. I was just being friendly as was he," Sybil replied.

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Wait until Papa and Mama here! They shall either greatly approve or disapprove."

"There is nothing to approve of," insisted Sybil.

"Either way, you know Mama will question you endlessly."

"Then I hope you will fight in my corner, Mary. I was only being polite to a kind young man," she said.

"Well, you will be guaranteed to have my support."

Mary spun around, almost slipping off the couch. Her mouth opened, but no words came. Tears started to fall as she rushed towards the door. "Matthew! _Matthew!_ "

/

Cheers rang through the hall. The war was over! It was clear there would be celebrating throughout England and countries all over the war. There was a collective sigh of relief upstairs as the family knew Matthew would return home safe.

Mary held the children close, telling them Papa would return and all would be fine. Maybe not fine for her, but fine for them. Eugenia and Theodore's world would become normal again. That was what she hoped and prayed for. A sense of normalcy.

/

It was not the first and surely not the last time that Mary was reminded how insane fate was. Her husband had survived the war. There had been others they had known that had perished. Others that came back with ghastly wounds and terrible dreams. Although her husband was not the same, he remained optimistic like the Matthew she had known. It truly seemed as though everything would be fine.

Several months managed to pass where nothing shockingly eventful happened. Rosamund would come by and bring tales of London to try and entice Sybil. However, Sybil continued her nursing, but refused to share details. Mary suspected there was a gentleman she had met, but no longer pestered her. Edith was pregnant again, but Mary had dismissed the matter. She was not meant to be an aunt. She also did not wish to know what they named to plan the next child.

And then Rosamund returned. Not to try and coax Sybil into having grand London dinners to meet suitors. She came because her brother was dying—would be dead, sooner than later. Mary's father was dying.

According to Clarkson, there was a new virus that had begun to spread. Mary did not understand everything he said and only partially listened. She did not need to hear the scientific reasons why her father was dying. She just wanted to know if it could be cured. It had happened suddenly.

The room looked fuzzy as Mary entered. Her mother sat on the edge of the bed, clutching his hand. Cora whispered into his ear. It was real, Mary knew, despite the fact everything felt decidedly unreal.

"He won't last till morning. It is best to say what you wish now, Lady Mary," said Clarkson as he passed by her.

Mary's body trembled. She felt unable to move. Her Papa was stronger than anyone, stubborn and strong. She watched as Sybil moved closer and began speaking to their father again.

In dramatic fashion, Edith came through the door, her blonde hair frizzier than ever. Her eyes darted around the room until they settled on Robert.

Mary watched her sisters speak soothing words to their father. They bent down, vulnerable and raw as their eyes turned red, the words coming out choppy. Finally, Mary approached. "Hello, Papa."

Robert nodded, a smile that appeared more like a grimace appeared on his face.

"I don't know what to say," Mary whispered. What did one say to a loved one when they might never see them alive again? Would not see them again, according to the doctor. Clearing her throat, Mary said louder, "Papa, you must know how much I love you. You loved and cherished me as any good father should. You shared your love of Downton with me and for that reason I love it so dearly. But Papa, there is no question that I love you more. You have taught me everything, given me everything and—"

Her voice cracked and her vision was starting to get blurry. The room was fuzzy again. She placed her small hand over his. He squeezed his hand with the little strength he had left. Perhaps, he could still fight it. He might not die.

"My girls," he wheezed. "I—love you."

Mary nodded, squeezing his hand back. She stood up then, allowing her sisters to say their goodbyes.

Cora walked them to the door and then hugged them again. "I have a room situated for you, Edith. I know Anthony stayed behind with Patrick. I love you, darlings. Your Papa loves you," she said. "And if this is the last moment the five of us are together, then we must remember how much love there was."

"Mama—"

"I love you. Who knows what will happen, but for now I will say goodnight. Now, darlings, I must get back to my husband. I suggest you hug yours tightly as I shall hug mine."

They left, and stood in the hallway for a moment. They quietly bid each other goodnight. Mary hurried to her room, finding Matthew sitting up with his book. He set it down, focused solely on her.

"How is he?"

"Not good, I'm afraid," she replied. It was late and she declined to ring for Anna as she began to clumsily undress. Then, she scooted into the bed, pulling the covers over herself.

"I'm so sorry, Mary."

She shook her head. She did not want to further think about her ill father because it would only cause more worry. "I want you to know something, Matthew."

"Yes?"

"I love you more each day. I love you more than I did yesterday and I shall love you more tomorrow."

/

The dress felt as if it were suffocating her. She stared at herself in the mirror. She looked as exhausted as she felt. Dismissing it, she walked down the stairs to join the family.

Everyone stood stiffly, trying to occupy themselves with talk of the weather and the newest London trends.

Sir Anthony and little Patrick had joined them. The boy was looking more like his mother each day. The staff had also joined the family upstairs, preparing to take orders before they too departed.

"Are the cars ready?"

"Yes," replied Sybil.

Mary nodded. "And where is Matthew?" she murmured.

Carson startled her when he said, "Lord Grantham went to the nursery to collect Lady Eugenia and Lord Downton."

Mary nodded, "I see. Thank you, Carson. Shall we go out to the cars? Matthew won't take more than a moment."

Silently, the family walked outside. The weather was not awful and the sun shined brightly. It was almost picturesque. The bright light clashed with the men's suits and the women's mourning dresses.

"Please tell Lord Grantham we are outside," she said, her voice shaky. It surprised Mary how uncomfortable it felt, the change in title. She supposed they would get used to it. Sadness overwhelmed her.

"Of course, your Ladyship."

 _ **Wooh! This could replace the longest chapter as the new longest chapter. I know that a lot happened this chapter and I'm eager to hear what you think. We are almost finished with this story and that is a crazy thought. I am very excited for the ending and everything that is still going to happen. Let's finish this together. Apologies for any typos and inaccuracies, I'm very tired but I just had to finish this today.**_

 _ **Please review, favorite and/or follow. Let me know which moment you enjoyed the most or the part you were shocked about. I know most people were thinking Matthew was going to die… sorry to disappoint. Thank you again for supporting me! You are all so kind.**_

 _ **My tumblr: mrsmarybranson**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**This will be it for a while. Thank you. Disclaimer: Nothing of this is mine.**_

 _The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves—say rather, loved in spite of ourselves._

 _-Les Miserables_

The room was a bit fuzzy, but Mary found that was becoming more common. She supposed it was the anxiety of it all. She had lost her father, but gained the title of countess. She was a countess.

It was an odd feeling, the moment when she realized she had everything she had asked for since she was a young girl. The moment was supposed to feel better, Mary thought. Yet, it had been several weeks and she was still surprised when someone said "Lady Grantham" and they were speaking to her.

Mary headed down the stairs, her feet dragging. She was not the young, vibrant girl she used to be. She wondered if Mama was still living at Downton and would stay downstairs the entire day. Cora was still grieving and would not spend more than half the day downstairs before she would retreat to her room. Matthew was now in charge and had a great deal on his hands as he tried to adjust. They all seemed to spin in circles, trying to pick up the pieces. Her father was gone. And he would never return. Mary blinked quickly and walked down the rest of the way. She could not think about Papa for too long without getting emotional. It seemed she was definitely not the girl she once was.

In the hall, she found Matthew pacing. She smiled and walked over to him. Upon noticing her presence, he said, "Mary, darling, hello. I've got quite a lot of business to take care of with Mur—"

"It's quite alright, Matthew. Go if you must."

"Are you sure?"

Mary bowed her head. "It is your duty."

Matthew ran a hand through his hair, messing up the thick blond locks. He gave her another sympathetic smile as he shrugged on his jacket. With a kiss, he was gone.

Mary felt her feet become weights again as soon as he left. She trudged to the dining room, not particularly hungry. Perhaps she too was still grieving.

/

Mary sat in the nursery with Sybil. Theodore and Eugenia sat on the floor, occupied with toys.

"How are you darling?" asked Sybil, her brows creased with worry.

"How is one when their father dies?"

"I miss him quite a lot," Sybil said. Her blue eyes bore into Mary's as she played with Eugenia's hair.

"As do I. Though I know he would not want us moping along because of him."

Sybil nodded, her gaze moving to her niece. "That is the thing though. I-I've been speaking with someone wonderful, but a part of me feels guilty."

Mary's eyebrows rose. "Someone? As in a man?"

"Yes. I did not mention it before because, well, I suppose I should have. He is quite keen on me; he tells me quite often. With everything that has happened with Papa, well it was not a priority. He has been consoling me though at work and—"

"What is his name?"

"Adam Parker."

"Hm, I do not recall the name. Has he lived here long?"

"I met him through nursing. He was a soldier injured and through rehabilitation we met. I suspect you would not know him though."

Mary laughed. "Just because I'm married does not mean I am not informed of the young men available."

"He is only a year or two older than me. However, he is not expecting any sort of inheritance. Not what we are used to anyways."

Mary's smile dropped. "Pardon?"

"He has lived a modest life. I believe, he mentioned his grandfather was cousins with an earl, though I do not remember whom. That was not important to me."

Mary's head hurt. Sybil was quite brave, declaring her affections for someone of a lower class. What would Papa say? Her stomach twisted. "That is quite the declaration."

"I knew you and Edith would be shocked. It started as nothing more than friendliness."

"I thought…" Mary shook her head. "Never mind what I thought."

Sybil read her older sister's expression. "Do not worry. I could never fall in love with _him_. He is quite the friend, but it is clear his heart beats for you."

Mary did not bother to dismiss her sister's claims. "Has this Mr. Parker proposed marriage?"

Sybil's cheeks turned rosy. "He wishes to seek a blessing. Now that Papa's gone…"

"He could ask Matthew," Mary replied firmly.

Sybil's eyebrows shot up in surprise. A wide smile spread across her face. "Are you saying you would not be opposed?"

"I must say I am not surprised you have decided on someone outside of the social circle we were introduced to. I am relieved you have not been deceived by Larry Grey. I want you to be happy, Sybil."

"I will be. It will be a different lifestyle, but I want that experience. And I should be relieved to know we are always welcome here."

Mary pulled her sister close. "Of course! Downton is your home."

Sybil smiled, a few tears were in her eyes. "I love you, Mary. I'm quite proud of you."

"I love you, darling. Although I am not sure what there is to be proud of."

"You opened yourself up to people you never would have in your first season. You are a changed person, but in the best ways possible."

/

Tom caught her gaze, a tired smile graced his face. She longed for the talks they used to have. Her lips pressed together as she smiled back. Perhaps, one day things would be fine, like they once were.

/

Her vision was hazy as she glanced around the nursery. One bed had been moved out and only one remained alongside the crib.

She peered over and stared at the plump baby with blonde wisps. She felt Matthew's presence as he leaned over behind her. "How is Ophelia?"

Mary continued to stare at the baby, her second daughter as she slept soundly. "Fine, I suppose."

"Good. She is rather perfect; don't you think?" he asked.

Mary shrugged. Three children were more than she had ever planned on having. She was tired frequently and it was clear her body would never regain the slenderness it once had. Her lips parted slightly as she replied, "Yes."

It was what she was _supposed_ to say. Lady Ophelia Crawley was perfect. She nodded her head at Matthew's words. After all, in the end Mary always did what she was supposed to.

/

"Was your day tiring?" Mary asked. She observed her husband as he sank down on the couch, rubbing a hand across his face. It had been a few months, but it was a slow adjustment for him.

He grimaced before answering. "Yes. There are staffing adjustments that must be dealt with."

"Oh? Have you had to let someone go?"

"No. Rather, someone has put in their notice."

At this, Mary frowned. She knew it was not Anna because her friend would have mentioned it. "Who is leaving?"

Matthew paused, his blue eyes meeting hers. "Tom Branson."

The room began to spin as Mary clutched on to the arm rest. She set her drink down before it spilt. Licking her lips, she tried to get her focus steady. "Oh, I see."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"About what?" she asked tersely.

"Branson. We both remember the conversation once had, in this very room."

"That was long ago, Matthew. It does not matter, not now. It does not matter to me and clearly he has moved on too."

Matthew's gaze softened. "Mary…"

"Please, Matthew, do not bring that up. It is a marriage and three children later. Surely you must know I stand by you."

"Of course."

"Good then. I suppose we will have to put in an advertisement and hope for the best?"

"Yes. He is not leaving immediately though so we have time to make arrangements. I will take care of it, you needn't worry. Now—how was your day?"

/

She faced him in the place she knew all too well. They stood in the center of the garage, her arms were crossed as she eyed him. Finally, she decided to speak. "Were you planning on disappearing into the night without a proper goodbye?"

His eyebrows rose. "I had not thought about it."

"Yes, but I had to hear of your plans from Matthew. I would have liked to hear it from you first."

"Would that have been proper? Lord Grantham is the one making arrangements after all."

Mary shrugged. "I still would have preferred it. But anyways, why are you leaving?"

His eyes darted away from hers. "I decided I needed to live again."

"What do you mean?"

"I have not been living, truly enjoying life, since you ended our arrangement and told me you would not be with me. I focused on you and did not allow myself to move on. You have though and now I must also."

Mary frowned. "Why do you say that? You act as though I have forgotten everything that happened between us."

He shook his head. "No, I mean you have continued to live your life. You are countess. You are married and have three children. It became a constant reminder that we were over and that we needed to go our separate ways. I love you, Mary, but I must do what is good for me now."

"But Tom—"

"Perhaps you were right. It never would have truly worked."

"No," she hissed. Her eyes were beginning to get watery and their surroundings began to blur. "I do not believe that. In the end it was a choice based on love."

He met her gaze again. Shaking his head, he whispered, "I have to. But know that I don't regret a thing of what we did."

Her lips trembled. She thought of the way he would smile and kiss her. The way his hair felt in between her fingers. The feeling of their hips rocking against each other. She thought of Maeve, a little girl who soon enough would become a young woman. "I do not regret it either."

He smiled at her and she wondered if this was the last time she would see Tom Branson. What if they never got a proper moment to talk again? What if he one day came back with a pretty woman on his arm?

The final bit of Mary broke.

/

She had closed the door to their room, hoping to make it clear she wanted no visitors.

She began to write hurriedly. It was his last day and she decided to give him something. The truth.

 _I loved you. A part of me is in love with the idea of what we could have been and what we had. But a part of me is also simply in love with just you. I confess, I do not know what my intentions were when you first told me you wanted to be with me. However, I found out I was pregnant and I knew what I had to do. My Aunt Rosamund and I did travel to Switzerland. The reason for the trip was to conceal my growing bump and prevent scandal. She aided me on the condition, when I returned, I would woo and wed Matthew Crawley. I wanted our child to have a life, Tom. I will not go into detail for both our sake's. You need only know that the baby was healthy and given to people who truly deserved a child. The baby is safe and it is best that things stay the way they are. I did it for the baby. You believed me to be indifferent towards you and now you know that is not the case. I loved you deeply. But it would also be wrong to say I do not love my husband. He knows nothing of the baby, but he knew about us. Matthew is a good man and I cannot say I do not have feelings for him. I have been the luckiest of women to be loved by you._

 _You and him are very much equals. I'm sorry to say I did not see it in you both in the beginning. But know my heart beats for two. I do not think you stop loving your first love and Tom, darling, that was you._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Mary Crawley_

She read through it twice before gently putting it in the envelope. She would ask Anna to find out his new mailing address. When an appropriate amount of time passed, Mary would mail it to him. Then he would know everything. He deserved that.

/

Matthew held onto her as she cried. She did not tell him the reason though she suspected he knew.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I love you," he replied simply.

"It may not seem like it right now, but I love you. I love you more each day."

/

Tom was gone and the cool breeze was a reminder of that. She still had the letter. Soon, she would be brave enough to have it mailed.

She wrapped her arms around herself and gazed out at the blurry landscape. She missed him. She had missed her chance with him and a life with him.

Sighing, she trudged back to the house. It would do no good for the Countess of Grantham to catch a cold.

/

"Milady?"

Everything was hazy and she desperately reached out. Where was Matthew? She wanted Matthew. She wanted Tom too. She needed them both. She let out a cry of fear as her vision continued to get worse.

"Milady?"

With a bolt her eyes flew open, her chest heaving. The room came alive and Dr. Clarkson rushed over. "Lady Mary, everything will be fine now," he said.

She glanced around the room. Cora stood back, she was smiling. Clarkson continued to speak, but Mary paid him no attention. "What—is happening?"

"Darling you have been awfully sick. We are not sure from what but you've had quite the fever."

Dr. Clarkson stepped back and began to speak to her mother. Mary looked down at herself. It was not real. None of it was real. The scandalous rendezvous with Tom. Matthew and her becoming earl and countess with three children. _It was not real_.

She began to cry and Cora quickly moved closer to comfort her daughter. "There, there. You need more rest and then we can talk."

Mary nodded. She had dreamt the entire thing. She had dreamt of the bliss and misery. Everything had been a lie. Her lips trembled as she realized her darling Matthew was gone. He had been gone for a while and she remembered that. She thought of Tom and wondered where he was. Was he worried? Her cheeks heated up as she thought of the things she had imagined him doing.

Turning her head away and leaning back she said, "Yes, let's talk later."

/

Cora sat across from her eldest daughter. Mary was feeling better. She had slept again for several hours before waking up. Anna had come in to visit and send wishes from the staff for Mary's wellbeing. Then. Cora returned.

"It seems like I've been asleep for eternity."

"There were a few moments where you started to come to, especially the last day or two."

"How long has it been?"

"Only a few days, you never got worse it was just you were not improving quickly. You spoke in your sleep sometimes."

Mary raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. "Oh? What did I say?"

"You said Matthew's name quite a bit."

Mary nodded. "Of course."

Cora paused and then added, "You said Tom's name frequently as well."

Mary nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. "I do not think it means anything, if you are trying to surmise something."

"I do think it is significant. You see, those were the only words you spoke. Their names," she said. Cora leaned in closer. "And you did not once mention Henry. Your _husband_."

Mary looked away. "I don't know what to say…"

"You best figure it out because it did not go unnoticed by us. There were even a few times you wailed Matthew and Tom's names—whom by the way has been very concerned. Not once did you utter Henry's name. You need to think about this Mary. You are married and you have a husband who is sour at the moment."

Mary fought the urge to roll her eyes. She now recalled the times when Henry would question her relationship with Tom. It was nothing, they were friends, Mary would assure him. Now though, she was certain she could never look at Tom the same after the steamy dreams she had. Her cheeks burned again as she remembered envisioning them in the garage, bare chests pressed against each other and moaning.

Clearing her throat, she replied, "You are insinuating I need to apologize, but I have done nothing."

"Not necessarily apologize. My darling, you and Henry have been a bit rocky and things need to be cleared up."

Mary frowned. "I know our marriage has been nothing close to perfection, I remember. As I also recall, I told everyone who terribly unsuited we were."

" _Mary_!"

"It's true," she hissed. Regaining her composure, she leaned back against the headboard. "Fetch Henry then. You're right, we do need to talk."

Cora looked as if she wanted to say more, but instead fled the room. Mary took a moment to calm herself. It was not like she had amnesia and had forgotten all her woes with her new husband. It had only taken a few moments of speaking about him that she remembered her frustrations. Perhaps that is why she had not dreamt of him. She was tired of thinking about him and decided to think about two other men she cared deeply for. It did not explain the vividness of which she dreamt of Tom, but she would keep that to herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Henry appeared. He quickly shut the door and sat in the chair her mother had vacated. "It's good to see you are awake, Mary."

"Thank you," she replied.

"We were all quite worried. You seemed miserable."

Mary shrugged. "I suppose."

"Funny thing, when I was in hear you were vocal sometimes. You said Matthew's name which I can understand," said Henry. She wrinkled her nose. She did not like the way he said Matthew's name as if he knew him, was good friends with him. Henry ran a hand down his face and continued. "But you also said Tom's name often. _That_ I cannot understand when you have a husband currently. Me."

Mary frowned as she sat up further in the bed. "What are you saying?"

"I would like an explanation as to why you never once called for me," said Henry. His eyes were narrowed and she could not picture the handsome face she had once been drawn to.

"Henry, I don't know why. It was a dream, it was not real and meant nothing."

She thought of how she had come to be happy and content with Matthew. She thought of Dream Mary's suppressed feelings for Tom. She controlled her expression as she listened to Henry.

"I don't think so. What were people going to think, you not asking for me a single time!"

"They would not think anything improper—"

"I would. I _do._ Are you really visiting the pigs when you say you are?"

Mary flushed. "I do not have to listen to this."

"You do because I am your husband."

She glanced away. "Well perhaps we should end it now."

His chest was rising and falling rapidly and he stood up. Pacing he said, "Divorce? Are you serious, Mary?"

"We are ill suited; you must have noticed. You do not enjoy life out here and I do not fancy you continuing to race. We are not happy, but we should be. And now, this seems to be the tipping point. During our short marriage I have been faithful to you. I cannot be married to a man who believes me incapable of fidelity."

His shoulders sagged. "You make me seem like a monster."

She shook her head. "I'm just being truthful. We were never meant to last. I let lust cloud my better judgement, I'll admit that."

He stared at her. Then he looked down. "I should go. Up to London, I think. We'll start the paperwork."

"Yes. Of course."

They stared at each other. Neither said they loved each other. It seemed improper after their heated argument and accusatory talk towards each other. When he shut the door behind him, Mary allowed herself to break. She had failed.

/

Henry must have informed her family on his way out—with all his belongings. Her family gave her warry looks as she appeared for the first time downstairs. Mary still felt a bit tired, but she wanted out of the room. Out of the room she had shared with him.

She had first thought she would be greeted by Sybil, who would have Eugenia and Ophelia next to her. Theodore would be with Matthew and they would greet her with hugs and kisses.

She found none of them. Instead, it was her parents, Tom, and the children. That was not so bad either, Mary decided.

"How are you?" asked Tom. He had immediately pulled her to a corner of the room to talk.

"Fine. Better than yesterday."

He nodded. He reached out and grasped her left hand. "I'm so sorry about Henry. We should have listened—I should have listened to you."

"Well, I did decide to marry him. Let's not talk about all of that though. How are you? Have I missed much excitement?"

Tom shook his head. "The usual, not that that is bad. I've been worried about you. I couldn't see you and I did not know quite how you were doing besides Cora, Isobel, and Dr. Clarkson's updates."

Mary's brows drew together. "You could not see me?"

His cheeks turned slightly pink as he replied, "It wouldn't have been proper."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Did Granny tell you that?"

He shrugged. His eyes stayed focused on her and she found, in a moment of bravery, she started to babble parts of the truth. "I dreamt about you."

His eyebrows shot up. "About me?"

"Yes. The family, Downton, Matthew, and you."

"What exactly did you dream? Did we win first place with the pigs again?" he asked. His laughter filled the room, but died down as he saw she her face. "Nothing bad, I hope."

"No, no," Mary replied. Sucking in her breath she said, "I don't know how to say it. In fact, I probably shouldn't."

"Mary—"

"We'll talk later, hm?"

With that, she left the room. She could not find it in herself to tell him she had pictured him doing unspeakable things to her, pleasuring her constantly.

/

He cornered her the next day. He had a friendly smile on his face, though his worry was not completely hidden.

"Is this an interrogation?" she asked dryly.

He shrugged. "You said we would finish the conversation."

"Yes, well, there is nothing much to say."

"I don't believe you."

"Please do not pester me, Tom."

"I didn't think I was. I only want to know what you dreamed? You act as if it is unspeakable."

"Because it _is._ "

"Tell me."

She thought of how upset he had been when he found out about her spilling Edith's secret to Bertie. She remembered how he often spoke of their level of trust. Mary remembered how Dream Mary had ended up telling Tom everything when it had been too late.

Eying him she said, "You will despise me. I once said that to someone and they did not, but I am not certain in this situation."

"Go on."

"I dreamt about you. My dream was years ago, when you first started out as a chauffeur. I don't really wish to delve into details. To put it simply—" she paused, barely meeting his eyes. "I dreamt of us making love quite frequently. I'm not sure why I envisioned such a thing. It is despicable, I know."

She could not meet his eyes. The room was too quiet as they stood there.

At last he said, "You dreamed of me making love to you?"

Her cheeks burned as she nodded. "Yes. I'm so sorry."

"Mary," he whispered.

"The thing is in my dream I let you go. I won't go in to details as to why, only I lost you and never told you how I truly felt," she said as she tilted her head forward. "This time, when it is real, well you needed to know. I think—no, I bloody know I love you. You deserved to know. I could not lie again, not to you, Tom."

His eyes had not left hers since she began talking. He continued to look at her, boring into her soul. She had nothing left to hide. Mary only hoped he could love her as much as Dream Tom had.

Staring at her, he said, "We should talk."

/

She would never forget the first time he kissed her. It was hurried and short, but by God _he loved her_.

She smiled as they caught their breaths. They needed to talk about the future, but not right that second. Mary smoothed her skirt and smiled back at him.

She could be happy should she choose to be.

/

Her family had not been thrilled at the news of her failed marriage to Henry. They conceded however that she had not been as happy as she should have been. Not as happy as she was "with Matthew", they said. That was true. However, upon waking up Mary realized there would never be another love like Matthew's. Perhaps, it was not needed. No man could offer her what Matthew had. She did not want a replacement. Mary wanted someone who would care and respect her and her way of life as much as her first husband had. That was what was needed.

Mary sipped her wine and glanced at Tom. A smile played on her lips.

After dinner, the questions from Granny didn't stop. She pestered Mary for information on why the marriage had crumbled. Mary merely shrugged her shoulders and sent Cora a glance.

"Mama, why don't we talk about lighter subjects?" suggested Cora.

It wasn't much longer before Mary decided to head to bed. She still got tired rather quickly. She did not wait for Papa and Tom to join them.

Slipping under the covers, she drifted off.

Waking up the next morning she realized she did not remember her dream from the previous night. It was, in a way, becoming reality. Licking her lips, she stood up and rang for breakfast

/

They would find each other at odd times, a walk back from the farmer's place or in his office. Their arms would wrap around each other. For the first time in months, she found herself content. At peace with the people she was around and the environment she was raising her son in. George. She was glad they had chosen the name George.

/

"Are you proposing to me?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes. I love you, Mary. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

"It's an honor?" she asked absentmindedly.

He rolled his eyes. "Well?"

She pulled him up from where he was kneeling. "Yes. Of course."

His smile was full of relief as he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. So this was what it felt like to be engaged to Tom Branson.

/

The veil was placed over her head and she smiled confidently in the mirror. This time, it was the dress she ordered weeks prior. It was the veil she wanted and the shoes matched perfectly. She had the same feeling as when she married Matthew and this time too, she knew it was right.

She asked for a moment alone with George. He was dressed in his finest, his blond hair slicked to the side. She picked him up carefully and set him on her head. One thing that had not changed between her dream and reality: she would do anything for her child.

"George, I love you very much."

He nodded. "Love you, Mama."

"This won't change a thing between us. I still love you. And I love your Papa. Things will be different, but better than they were with Mr. Talbot. In fact, I believe we will be the happiest we have ever been together."

"Why?"

"Because I'm marrying Sybbie's Papa today. And I know he loves you unconditionally."

George nodded again, his brows furrowing a bit. Mary and Tom had taken time to explain to the children what was happening. Sybbie quickly took to calling Mary, "Mama", much to their surprise. However, George was confused as to why Henry came so quickly and left and Tom leaving and coming back. His blue eyes met her and he asked, "Mama, I call him Papa?"

Mary smiled. Tom had assured her that it was no harm to Matthew and Sybil's memory and she believed it now. "If you wish."

He smiled. "I wish."

/

She signed her name for the first time, it changed again. It did not matter to her that there was talk about her. She paid it no mind. She was willing to take whatever came at her. After all, she was a storm braver.

She smiled as she signed her name. _Lady Mary Branson._

She was happy because she had chosen to be.

/

It was morning and she had not yet rung for breakfast. She twisted a lock of hair as she waited for Tom to reenter the room.

He did and for the first time in a while, she smiled nervously. "Good morning."

"Morning," he replied as he kissed her.

"I have something I need to tell you." She prayed her voice was not too shaky.

"What is it?"

"I-I'm pregnant."

She gauged his reaction as his eyes grew wide. He did not move for a moment before he rushed to her, holding her close.

"Darling are you really?"

"Yes. I was glad at the news but I was not sure how you would feel. I know we never really talked about it."

Tom shook his head. "I'm scared, of course. But believe me, Mary, I'm overjoyed."

"Good. I'm due in January."

Tom still looked in shock as he kissed her forehead and marveled at her stomach. "Would you like a boy or a girl?"

Mary smiled. She leaned in closer to his warm touch. Her lips against his ear, she said, "A girl."

/

 _I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity and her flaming self respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole word indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and that is the beginning and end of everything._

 _-F. Scott Fitzgerald_

 _ **Holy cow I cannot believe I'm finished. This has been such an incredible ride and I appreciate the support from everyone. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. Thank you for encouraging me and being so wonderfully kind. Also, thank you to everyone on tumblr for your support. You guys are honestly the best.**_

 _ **I was worried when I first came up with the idea of "Addiction", but I wrote it and then the sequel and I'm so glad I did. The response to these two stories have been awesome and beyond anything I expected. I love Brary and I hope you enjoyed this.**_


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